359 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 


"Feel   my   pulse   now,    before   you   go,"   the   pseudo-doctor's 
patient  commanded. 


THE 
WHITE  BLACKBIRD 


BY 

HUDSON   DOUGLAS 

AUTHOR   OF  "  A   MILLION   A   MINUTE," 
"THE  LANTERN   OF  LUCK,"   ETC. 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 
1912 


Copyright,  1912, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved,  including  those  of  translation  into 
foreign  languages,  including  the  Scandinavian 


Published,  September,  1912 


THE  COLONIAL  PRESS 
C.  H.  8IMOND8  A  CO.,  BOSTON,  U.  8.  A. 


FOR 
ISOBEL  MY  WIFE 

AND 
OUR  DAUGHTER  ISOBEL 


2135217 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  TROPICAL  DISCUSSION i 

II.  "  DUTCH  COURAGE  " n 

III.  EL  PARISH 18 

IV.  THE  MASQUE  OF  DEATH 28 

V.  AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE 38 

VI.  HOBSON'S  CHOICE 51 

VII.  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 64 

VIII.  UNMASKED        . 80 

DC.  AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE        ...  91 

X.  THE  GODDESS  OF  CHANCE 107 

XI.  A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE 119 

XII.  THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM 130 

XIII.  A  MASTERSTROKE 143 

XIV.  "  SALLIE  HARRIS  " 156 

XV.  THE  LAW  —  AND  THE  PROFITS    ....  169 

XVI.  "  PLEASURES  AND  PALACES  "  184 

XVII.  THE  MAN  IN  POSSESSION 195 

XVIII.  THE  LOSER 205 

XIX.  THE  WINNER 217 

XX.  BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR   .       .       .       .       .232 

XXI.  THE  JURA  SUCCESSION 243 

XXII.  THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART        .       .       .  259 


vm 


CONTENTS 


XXIII.  A  NEW  IDEA        . 271 

XXIV.  BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE    .  280 


XXV.  THE  WHITE  LADY 

XXVI.  A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH 

XXVII.  DEBIT  AND  CREDIT     . 

XXVIII.  ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE 
XXIX. 
XXX. 


.     .  295 

.  306 

.  320 

-       •  332 

PRIDE'S  PRICE      .....-,.  342 

THE  TENTH  EARL 350 


XXXI.    "  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  PASSAGE  " 


353 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  FEEL  MY  PULSE  NOW,  BEFORE  YOU  GO,"  THE  PSEUDO- 
DOCTOR'S  PATIENT  COMMANDED.    (See  page  32)  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"  You  WON'T  FORGET,"  HE  URGED,  GRAVE  AGAIN     .       .      89 
SOMETHING  VERY  LIKE  FEAR  LOOKED  OUT  OF  HIS  EYES    .     258 

SHE  TOUCHED  WITH  HER  LIPS  THE  BACK  OF  THE  TOIL- 
STAINED  HAND 322 


The  White  Blackbird 

CHAPTER  I 

A   TROPICAL  DISCUSSION 

"  *W  'D  far  rather  beg  in  the  gutter  than  marry  you, 

Jasper!  "  flashed  the  girl,  at  last  goaded  past  all 

patience.     Her  clouded,  indignant  eyes  expressed 

both  contempt  and  aversion  for  the  young  man  leaning  over 

the  deck-rail  beside  her. 

He  was  still  a  young  man  as  years  go  and  in  spite  of  the 
grey  streaks  in  his  dark  hair,  the  crow's-feet  above  his  cheek- 
bones; more  than  passably  good-looking,  too,  with  his 
regular  profile  and  straight,  spare,  athletic  figure,  though 
his  sleepy  eyes  were  a  trifle  close-set  and  more  than  a  trifle 
untrustworthy,  though  the  black  moustache  he  was  twirl- 
ing with  a  long,  thin,  almost  womanish  hand  hid  a  cruel, 
selfish  mouth. 

In  his  smart  white  yachting-suit  and  panama,  lounging 
over  the  sun-dried  teak  taffrail  with  his  knees  crossed,  he 
seemed  to  be  neither  oppressed  by  the  tropical  heat  nor 
impressed  at  all  by  anything  that  his  companion  could  say. 

"  I'd  far  rather  beg  in  the  gutter,"  she  repeated,  as  if  to 
settle  the  matter.  And  the  emphasis  with  which  she  spoke 
showed  that  she  meant  what  she  said. 

"  But  —  that  doesn't  make  any  difference,  my  dear 


2  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Sallie,"  he  once  more  answered,  displaying  his  white,  even 
teeth  in  a  slight,  amused  smile.  "  You're  going  to  marry  me 
just  the  same.  And  you  may  as  well  make  up  your  mind 
right  away  —  that  it  will  pay  you  best  to  be  pleasant 
about  it 

"  Captain  Dove  has  come  to  the  point  at  last,"  he  went 
on  to  explain  condescendingly,  in  the  same  cool,  careless, 
conversational  tone,  a  tone  which,  however,  could  not 
quite  hide  the  ugly  determination  behind  it.  "  You've 
upset  him  for  good  and  all  this  time.  He's  aching  to  get 
rid  of  you  now.  In  fact,  he's  cursing  himself  that  he  didn't 
-  when  he  might  have  made  more  out  of  the  deal.  And, 
anyhow,  he's  promised  you  to  me." 

The  girl's  slim,  shapely  body  had  suddenly  stiffened. 
She  started  up  and  away  from  him  with  a  gesture  of  blind 
repulsion.  Her  pure,  proud,  sensitive  face  showed  the 
struggle  that  was  going  on  in  her  mind  —  between  fear  and 
hope;  quick  fear  that  what  he  had  just  said  might  be  true, 
slow  hope  that  he  had  been  lying  to  her  again. 

He  had  turned  on  one  elbow  with  a  lazy  air  of  inex- 
haustible tolerance,  that  he  might  the  more  conveniently 
follow  her  with  his  greedy  glance.  He  was  apparently  quite 
sure  of  himself  —  and  her.  At  any  rate,  he  was  openly 
gloating  over  her  beauty  hi  her  distress  while  she  stood 
gazing  in  dire  dismay  about  the  shabby,  unkempt  little 
steamer  which  was  all  the  home  she  had  in  the  world,  all 
the  home  she  had  ever  had  except  for  a  few  forgotten  years 
of  her  childhood. 

Its  name,  on  a  life-buoy  triced  to  the  rusty  netting  be- 
tween the  rails,  was  the  Olive  Branch,  but  its  port  of  regis- 
try had  been  painted  out.  It  rode  deep  although  it  was 
decked  after  the  old-fashioned  switchback  design  and  had 


A  TROPICAL  DISCUSSION  3 

no  cargo  on  board.  Its  squat,  inconspicuous  smokestack 
helped  to  give  it  a  somewhat  nefarious  air. 

About  its  ill-kept,  untidy  decks  there  were  very  few  signs 
of  life  and  none  at  all  of  luxury.  Under  a  tattered  canvas 
sun-screen  on  the  fo'c'sle-head  a  ragged  deck  hand  was  on 
the  look-out,  his  scorched  face  expressive  of  anything  but 
contentment  with  his  circumstances.  He  shifted  frequently 
from  one  bare,  blistered  foot  to  the  other;  it  was  impossible 
to  stand  still  for  long,  with  the  deck-plates  as  hot  as  any 
frying-pan  on  a  brisk  fire. 

On  the  bridge,  the  officer  of  the  watch  was  pacing  to  and 
fro.  Every  time  he  turned  on  his  beat  beneath  the  dirty, 
weather-worn  awning  he  paused  to  dart  a  suspicious,  ex- 
pectant glance  at  the  double  hatchway  which  led  to  the 
crew's  quarters,  forward.  The  open  wheel-house  behind 
him  was  occupied  only  by  the  quartermaster  on  duty. 
The  remainder  of  the  watch  on  deck  were  nowhere 
visible. 

Through  the  heat-haze  to  starboard  the  blurred  outline 
of  the  low-lying  African  coast  was  dimly  discernible.  Sea- 
ward, ahead,  and  astern,  the  long,  oily  swell  that  the  North- 
east Trades  never  reach  blazed  like  molten  metal  under 
the  almost  vertical  afternoon  sun.  Except  for  the  lonely 
little  grey  steamer  wallowing  sluggishly  northward  through 
it,  the  world  of  water  was  empty  to  the  horizon. 

A  poignant  sense  of  her  own  no  less  forlorn  plight  there 
stirred  the  girl  to  glance  round  at  her  companion,  as  if  in 
helpless  appeal. 

"  You  don't  really  mean  —  what  you  said,  do  you, 
Jasper?  "  she  asked,  with  a  very  pitiful  inflection  in  her 
low,  musical  voice. 

"  Every    word,"    he    answered    her    promptly.      "  If 


4  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

you  don't  believe  me,  go  down  and  ask  Captain 
Dove." 

She  turned  away  from  him  again,  to  hide  the  effect  of  his 
curt  reply.  But  her  drooping  shoulders  no  doubt  betrayed 
that  to  him.  He  pulled  out  a  cigar-case  and,  having  lighted 
a  rank  cheroot  with  languid  deliberation,  puffed  that  con- 
templatively. 

V.  "  I  will  go  down  and  ask  Captain  Dove,"  she  said  to  her- 
self at  length,  with  tremulous  courage,  and  was  moving 
toward  the  companion-hatch  when  she  heard  from  the  other 
end  of  the  ship  a  sudden  ominous  discord,  a  sound  such  as 
might  have  come  from  a  nest  ofj  hornets  about  to  swarm. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  wrong  forward;  and  she 
faced  about  again,  instantly. 

Peering  through  the  hurtful  sunshftie  with  anxious  eyes, 
her  scarlet  lips  compressed  and  resolute,  she  saw  that  the 
look-out  had  turned  on  his  half-baked  feet  to  stare  from  the 
fo'c'sle  into  the  well-deck  behind  him.  The  officer  of  the 
watch  had  ceased  his  regular  march  and  countermarch, 
and  was  also  gazing  downward  in  that  direction.  Even  her 
self-confident  companion  had  started  up  from  his  idle  pos- 
ture, in  obvious  alarm. 

A  figure  darted  up  one  of  the  two  ladders  which  led  to  the 
bridge.  The  officer  of  the  watch  had  left  his  post  by  the 
other  at  the  same  moment,  as  if  to  avoid  the  newcomer, 
and  was  making  his  way  aft,  unhurriedly,  yet  at  speed. 
He  did  not  look  back,  but  she  was  aware  of  other  figures 
which  also  had  appeared  in  a  moment  from  nowhere,  and 
were  following  him  on  tiptoe,  under  cover  where  it  could 
be  had.  Once,  a  flash,  as  of  flame,  amidships,  almost  forced 
from  her  lips  a  wild  cry  of  warning,  but  that  was  only  a 
glint  of  sun  on  a  gun-barrel  where  the  browning  had  worn 


A  TROPICAL  DISCUSSION  5 

away  and  left  the  steel  bright.  And  he,  seemingly  unaware 
of  the  danger  behind  him,  reached  the  poop  unharmed,  a 
big,  fair,  bluff-looking,  broad-shouldered  man  in  shabby 
blue  sea-uniform. 

At  the  foot  of  the  narrow  stairway  by  which  alone  access 
could  be  had  to  the  poop,  he  called  softly  up  to  the  girl  at  the 
rail  above,  "  They'll  be  at  our  throats  in  a  minute,  Sallie. 
Get  you  away  below,  quick  —  and  warn  the  Old  Man." 

At  the  top  of  the  steps  he  stopped,  and  turned,  and 
stayed  there,  blocking  the  stairway  with  his  great  body. 
And  the  armed  ruffians  swarming  aft  in  his  wake  slackened 
their  pace,  then  hung  back  about  the  hatch  on  the  deck 
below.  But  each  had  a  finger  crooked  on  the  trigger  of  a 
ready  rifle.  The  simplest  word  or  motion  misplaced  at  that 
first  moment  of  crisis  must  have  precipitated  the  murder 
that  was  to  be. 

The  girl  had  obeyed  him  promptly,  if  without  appear- 
ance of  haste  and,  once  out  of  sight  of  the  mutineers,  there 
was  no  need  to  study  her  steps.  She  darted  across  the 
dim,  daintily  appointed  saloon  below  and,  having  knocked 
imperatively  at  one  of  the  two  doors  on  that  side  of  the 
ship  entered,  without  waiting  for  any  permission,  the 
stateroom  it  opened  into. 

"  The  men  have  broken  out,  Captain  Dove,"  she  cried, 
breathless  a  little,  her  bosom  heaving.  "  They're  coming 
aft  —  there  isn't  a  moment  to  spare.  What  are  we  to  do?  " 

In  the  berth  behind  the  curtains  some  one  was  moving. 
The  room  was  practically  in  darkness,  since  the  open  port 
was  also  screened,  to  shut  out  the  searching  sun.  But,  in 
spite  of  all  such  precautions,  the  heat  was  almost  unbear- 
able. 

The  curtains  parted  slightly  and  from  their  opening  a 


6 

face  peered  out  at  her,  the  blandly  benevolent  face  of  a  mild- 
looking,  white-haired  old  man  who,  at  a  casual  glance, 
might  perhaps  have  passed  for  a  clergyman  or  a  missionary. 

But  in  an  instant  a  most  disconcerting  change  came  over 
his  features.  Some  dormant  devil  seemed  to  have  wakened 
within  him  and  was  glaring  out  at  the  girl  from  behind  evil, 
red-rimmed  eyes.  His  appearance  then  might  have  fright- 
ened a  man  away.  But  she  stood  her  gr  ound  undismayed. 

No  less  suddenly  he  broke  into  a  torrent  of  fierce  abuse, 
freely  interspersed  with  blood-curdling,  old-fashioned  oaths. 
And  that  was  only  stemmed  by  a  frantic  paroxysm  of 
coughing  which  left  a  crimson  froth  about  the  white 
stubble  upon  his  chin.  He  fell  back  into  the  gloom  behind 
the  curtains,  as  if  he  would  choke. 

The  girl  hurriedly  filled  a  glass  with  water  from  a  carafe 
on  a  rack  at  one  side  of  the  room,  pulled  the  curtains  apart, 
and  held  it  to  the  sick  man's  lips.  He  sipped  at  it  and  then 
struck  it  away  so  that  most  of  its  contents  spilled  on  her 
skirts. 

"Would  you  poison  me  now,  you  witch!  "  he  gasped, 
and  then,  regaining  his  voice  a  little,  "  Ambrizette,"  he 
called  weakly,  with  a  quavering  imprecation,  "  brandy. 
Bring  me  the  bottle.  Your  mistress  has  poisoned  me." 

A  coloured  woman,  stunted,  misshapen,  almost  incon- 
ceivably ugly,  came  shambling  in  with  a  bottle,  which  he 
snatched  eagerly  from  her  and  set  to  his  lips,  while  she 
made  off  again,  in  very  evident  dread  of  him.  The  colour 
came  back  to  his  face,  and  at  last  he  laid  it  aside,  with  a 
sigh  of  relief. 

"  The  men  have  broken  out,  have  they?  "  he  muttered, 
half  to  himself.  "  And  you  come  to  me  to  ask  what's  to 
be  done!  "  He  glowered  down  at  one  of  his  arms  which 


A  TROPICAL  DISCUSSION  7 

lay  across  his  chest  in  a  sling  and  tightly  bandaged.  His 
voice  once  more  became  venomous.  "  It's  your  fault  that 
I'm  lying  here,"  he  snarled.  "  You  and  your  bully  Yoxall 
have  taken  charge  of  my  ship  between  you.  Why  don't 
the  two  of  you  tackle  them?  What  the  Seven  Stars  d'ye 
think  I  care  now  whether  you  sink  or  swim!  " 

She  turned  away  from  him  with  a  little,  tired,  hopeless 
gesture. 

"  I  don't  care  very  much,  either,  now,"  she  answered, 
dully,  "  what  happens  to  me.  But  —  it's  you  they're 
after,  Captain  Dove,  and  there  isn't  a  moment  to  spare. 
They've  got  the  guns  up  already." 

The  old  man  was  plucking  with  feverish  fingers  at  the 
fine  lace  counterpane  which  covered  him.  He  made  an 
effort  to  rise,  but  lay  back  again  with  a  groan. 

"  They've  got  the  guns  up,  have  they!  "  he  growled,  deep 
down  in  his  throat,  with  a  most  horrid  effect.  "  Then  one 
of  the  mates  at  least  must  be  standing  in  with  them  — 
the  mutinous  dogs!  And  since  it's  come  to  settling  old 
scores,  I'm  ready;  I'll  settle  all  with  them  before  we  go 
any  farther."  His  eyes  were  sunken  with  sickness  and  he 
was  so  weak  that  he  could  scarcely  move,  but  his  spirit 
seemed  to  be  altogether  unquenchable. 

"  I'm  going  to  settle  with  them  now,"  he  declared,  "  and 
—  don't  you  interfere  again,  Sallie.  I've  stood  all  I'm 
going  to  stand  from  you,  too.  You've  got  to  fancy  your- 
self far  too  much,  my  girl !  Listen  here!  Next  time  I  have 
to  talk  to  you,  it'll  be  with  that,"  -  he  pointed  to  a  heavy 
kourbash  of  hippopotamus-hide  hanging  from  a  hook  on 
the  panelling,  —  "  and,  by  all  that's  holy!  if  I've  to  begin, 
I'll  lace  you  from  head  to  heel  with  it  —  as  I  should  have 
done  long  ago." 


8  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

The  girl  shrank  as  if  he  had  actually  struck  her  with  it. 
She  knew  he  was  even  capable  of  carrying  out  that  threat. 

"  Where's  Jasper  Slyne?  "  he  demanded,  in  a  low  whis- 
per, almost  exhausted. 

"  On  deck,  above,  with  Reuben  Yoxall,"  she  told  him. 

"  Send  him  down  here  to  me.  I  must  get  up  out  o'  this. 
To-day's  Sunday,  isn't  it?  What  was  our  position  at 
noon?  " 

She  told  him  exactly,  at  once,  and  he  seemed  content  to 
rely  on  her  nautical  knowledge.  He  nodded,  as  if  satisfied. 

"  That's  all  right.  Off  you  go  now.  And  don't  forget 
what  I've  said  to  you.  Tell  Slyne  to  look  sharp  —  and 
stand  the  men  off  somehow  till  I  get  on  deck,"  he  snapped, 
as  she  hurried  away. 

She  did  not  know  what  might  have  happened  overhead 
while  she  had  been  below,  and  heaved  a  heartfelt  sigh  of 
relief  as,  gaining  the  open  air  again,  she  saw  that  the  two 
men  she  had  left  there  were  still  at  the  rail,  unharmed. 
Only  one  of  them  looked  round  as  she  approached,  and  it 
was  to  him  she  spoke. 

"  Captain  Dove  wants  you  in  a  hurry,  Jasper,"  she  said, 
and  he  went  below  in  his  turn,  not  altogether  unwill- 
ingly. 

As  he  disappeared  behind  her,  she  glanced  down  at  the 
main-deck  alive  with  armed  men,  as  evil-looking  a  crowd 
as  could  be  recruited  from  the  purlieus  of  Hell's  Kitchen 
or  crimped  from  the  Hole-m-the-Wall.  The  flush  on  her 
face  died  away. 

"  What  are  they  waiting  for,  Rube?  "  she  whispered  to 
the  big  man  at  the  top  of  the  steps,  whose  steady  glance 
seemed  to  have  such  a  repressive  effect  on  them. 

"  Sunset,  I  suppose,"  he  answered  in  a  low  tone.    "  If 


A  TROPICAL  DISCUSSION  9 

no  one  crosses  them,  they'll  maybe  wait  till  it's  dark  before 
they  begin.  Better  go  below  again,  Sallie." 

She  shook  her  head  and  said  "  No,"  aloud,  since  he  was 
not  looking  at  her.  And  he  did  not  urge  that  precaution. 
The  sun  was  already  nearing  the  steamy  horizon. 

The  sullen,  lowering  looks  of  the  ill-favoured  assemblage 
about  the  hatch  foretold  the  fate  which  threatened  her  and 
him. 

"  But  they  won't  shoot  you,  Sallie,"  he  said,  giving  voice 
to  his  only  fear  in  a  shaky  whisper,  his  soul  in  his  honest 
eyes  as  he  glanced  wretchedly  round  at  her. 

She  laid  a  clenched  hand  on  the  rail  and  opened  it  slightly. 
"  Don't  worry  about  me,  Rube,"  she  whispered  back,  very 
matter  of  fact,  while  he  gazed  as  if  fascinated  at  'the  thin 
blue  phial,  with  its  red  danger-label,  resting  in  her  rosy 
palm.  "  I  always  carry  a  key  that  will  unlock  the  last  gate 
of  all.  So  there's  no  need  to  worry  about  me.  I  just 
wish  you'd  say  you  forgive  me  all  the  trouble  I've  brought 
on  you." 

"  There's  nothing  to  forgive,  lass,"  he  asserted  stolidly, 
and,  looking  away  again  as  though  her  appealing  regard 
had  hurt  him,  was  taken  with  a  gulping  in  the  throat. 

Two  or  three  of  the  mutineers  had  begun  to  knock  loose 
the  wedges  securing  the  tarpaulin  cover  of  the  after-hatch, 
through  which  alone  access  to  the  ship's  magazine  was  to 
be  had. 

"  There's  no  use  in  trying  to  stop  them  at  that,"  he  said, 
as  if  to  himself.  "  It's  only  a  matter  of  minutes  now,  I  sup- 
pose. And  —  " 

"  Dutch  courage  is  cheap  enough,"  said  a  contemptu- 
ous, sneering  voice  in  the  background,  and  the  sound  of 
shuffling  footsteps  succeeded  it.  The  men  on  the  main-deck 


10  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

were  gazing  past  him,  handling  their  rifles,  muttering 
hoarsely,  moving  to  get  more  elbow-room.  The  girl  beside 
him  had  turned  at  the  words,  but  he  kept  his  eyes  stead- 
fastly on  the  foremost  of  the  fermenting,  murderous  rabble 
below. 


*    DUTCH  COURAGE 

CAPTAIN  DOVE  had  come  up  on  deck,  and  was 
standing  by  the  companion-hatch,  drawing  diffi- 
cult breaths,  swaying  to  the  rise  and  sink  of  the 
ship  on  the  long,  slow,  ceaseless  swell. 

He  had  only  a  greatcoat  secured  by  a  single  button  about 
his  shoulders  over  his  night-dress,  and  on  his  feet  an  old 
pair  of  carpet  slippers.  Sallie  darted  a  blazing  glance  of 
indignation  at  Jasper  Slyne  who,  instead  of  helping  the 
sick  old  man,  seemed  only  bent  on  aggravating  him  with 
his  evil  tongue. 

"You  coward!"  she  cried  at  that  immaculate  gentle- 
man, and  would  have  gone  to  the  old  man's  aid  but  that  he 
angrily  waved  her  also  aside  as  he  tottered  forward,  chang- 
ing his  scowl  by  the  way  to  that  sleek,  benevolent  smile 
which  he  could  always  assume  at  his  pleasure. 

A  slow  silence  followed  on  the  low,  suspicious  rumble  of 
voices  with  which  the  mutineers  had  greeted  his  most  un- 
expected appearance.  They  had,  of  course,  supposed  him 
physically  incapable  of  further  interference  with  them  and 
their  plans.  But,  as  it  was,  he  did  not  look  very  danger- 
ous in  his  grotesque  dishabille. 

As  he  reached  the  rail,  Reuben  Yoxall  stepped  to  one 
side,  touching  his  cap  in  his  customary  salute.  Slyne  had 
halted  a  couple  of  paces  behind,  and  Sallie,  too,  had  drawn 
back.  Captain  Dove  stood  alone  at  the  top  of  the  stairway, 


12  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

in  the  forefront  of  the  little  group  there,  and  looked  contem- 
platively down  at  the  men  who,  he  knew  very  well,  would 
listen  to  no  appeal  of  his  for  his  life.  From  his  placid,  be- 
nign demeanour  then  he  might  have  been  inspecting  a 
Sunday-school. 

His  features  were  in  themselves  of  an  unctuous  cast, 
smooth,  flat,  snub-nosed,  clean-shaven  as  a  rule,  except  for 
a  straggling  fringe  of  whisker.  His  white  hair  and  weak, 
winking  eyes  added  to  his  smugly  sanctimonious  expres- 
sion. He  was  squat  of  build,  unduly  short  in  the  legs  and 
long  of  arm.  And,  altogether,  he  cut  no  very  dashing  figure 
in  his  ridiculous  garments,  one  sleeve  of  his  coat  hanging 
limp  and  empty,  the  arm  that  should  have  filled  it  lying 
across  his  chest  in  a  sling,  his  chin  disfigured  by  a  week's 
growth  of  stubble,  his  whiskers  all  unkempt. 

But  it  had  never  been  by  his  gallant  presence  that  he  had 
held  to  heel  the  cutthroats  who  composed  his  crew,  and, 
even  then,  when  they  had  him  before  them  helpless,  a  cer- 
tain target  for  their  loaded  rifles,  not  one  of  them  seized  the 
immediate  opportunity. 

He  steadied  himself  with  his  free  hand  on  the  rail  of  the 
narrow  stairway,  and  so  stepped  downward  among  them. 
Still  no  one  else  moved.  It  may  have  been  that  his  almost 
inhuman  daring  daunted  them  in  spite  of  themselves.  But 
Sallie,  in  the  background,  was  holding  her  breath.  She 
knew  he  was  courting  a  bloody  death,  and  feared  he  would 
meet  it  there,  before  her  shrinking  eyes.  That  tragedy  and 
all  its  unspeakable  consequences  were  literally  hanging  on 
a  hair-trigger. 

He  reached  the  level  below,  still  smiling  blandly,  and, 
letting  go  the  rail,  shuffled  forward,  slowly  but  steadily 
enough,  his  slippers  flapping  at  his  heels  with  ludicrous 


"  DUTCH  COURAGE "  13 

effect.  Two  or  three  of  the  men  confronting  him  stepped 
to  one  side,  gave  him  free  passage  into  the  throng,  and 
closed  in  again  behind  him.  He  took  no  notice  of  anyone, 
but  held  on  his  way  till  he  reached  the  ladder  which  led 
from  the  break  of  the  poop  to  the  quarter-deck. 

He  climbed  that  at  his  leisure,  panting  a  little,  his  back 
toward  them.  They  had  faced  about  and  were  following 
his  every  movement  with  malevolent  eyes.  A  single  shot 
would  have  made  a  quick  end  of  him,  but  no  shot  was  fired. 
And,  at  the  top  of  the  ladder,  he  turned  to  speak. 

"  I'll  send  Mr.  Hobson  aft  to  issue  your  ammunition," 
he  said,  in  a  voice  without  any  tremor  of  weakness.  "  Get 
two  full  bandoliers,  each  of  you,  and  then  file  forward  again 
while  the  others  come  aft  for  theirs." 

And  with  that,  leaving  them  to  their  own  reflections, 
agape,  absolutely  dumfounded  by  his  audacity,  he  made 
his  way  up  on  to  the  bridge,  the  skirts  of  his  night-dress 
fluttering  from  under  the  shorter  length  of  his  heavy  coat. 

They  fell  to  whispering  among  themselves,  excited  and 
distrustful.  They  had  only  a  few  loose  rounds  for  their 
rifles,  and  Captain  Dove  alone  knew  how  the  ship's  maga- 
zine might  safely  be  entered.  It  would  undoubtedly  have 
cost  some  of  them  their  lives  to  force  that  secret.  No  one 
of  them  would  be  willing  to  sacrifice  himself  for  the  common 
cause,  and  Captain  Dove's  unlooked-for  concession  of  their 
chief  need  had  no  doubt  mystified  them  altogether. 

Hobson,  the  second  mate,  came  aft  a  few  minutes  later, 
a  beetle-browed,  foxy-looking  fellow,  with  a  furtive  smile 
of  encouragement  for  his  accomplices.  At  a  sign  from  him 
they  unshipped  the  hatches.  He  disappeared  into  the  hold, 
a  bunch  of  keys  dangling  from  one  wrist,  and  presently 
shouted  up  some  order,  in  terms  much  more  polite  than  he 


14  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

had  lately  been  in  the  habit  of  using,  to  them  at  least.  A 
chain  of  living  links  was  promptly  formed  from  the  maga- 
zine, and  packed  bandoliers,  passed  rapidly  from  hand  to 
hand,  soon  reached  its  farther  end.  The  men  grinned  mean- 
ingly at  each  other  as  they  slung  the  web  belts  crosswise 
over  their  shoulders.  For  with  these  they  were  still  more 
absolutely  masters  of  the  situation. 

Reuben  Yoxall,  back  at  his  dangerous  post  by  the  stair- 
way, was  watching  them  no  less  narrowly  than  before.  It 
seemed  the  sheerest  madness  on  Captain  Dove's  part  to 
have  disclosed  to  their  ringleader  the  secret  of  the  maga- 
zine, and  no  one  could  tell  at  what  moment  they  might  now 
assume  the  offensive.  The  sun  was  already  dipping  behind 
the  sea-rim. 

"  We've  changed  our  course,"  Sallie  said  to  him  in  a 
puzzled  whisper,  and  he  nodded  silently.  The  Olive  Branch 
was  heading  inshore.  The  outline  of  the  coast  had  grown 
clearer  under  the  last  of  the  evening  light.  Here  and  there 
against  its  smudgy-brown  background  showed  dark  green 
blots  that  were  mangroves  or  clumps  of  palm.  A  thin, 
white  ribbon  of  surf  was  distinctly  visible  on  the  distant 
beach. 

Captain  Dove  was  at  the  starboard  extremity  of  the 
bridge,  his  binoculars  at  his  eyes.  He  laid  them  down, 
and  pointed  out  to  the  third  mate,  at  his  elbow,  some  land- 
mark directly  ahead.  Then  he  climbed  carefully  down  to 
the  quarter-deck  and  began  to  make  his  way  aft  again. 
Behind  him,  rifles  in  hand,  came  creeping  another  strong 
contingent  of  his  strangely  numerous  crew.  Half  a  dozen 
of  those  nearest  him  had  drawn  and  fixed  the  long  sword- 
bayonet  each  wore  at  his  hip. 

The  old  man  in  greatcoat  and  slippers  paused  at  the 


15 

after-rail  of  the  quarter-deck.  The  bayonets  were  almost 
at  his  shoulder  blades.  But  the  three  anxious  onlookers 
aft  could  not  even  warn  him  of  that  additional  danger,  to 
which  he  seemed  quite  oblivious. 

The  crowd  at  tha  open  hatch  looked  round  at  him,  as  of 
one  accord,  and  the  bulk  turned  on  their  heels  towards  him, 
but  a  few  remained  facing  the  three  still,  silent  figures  on 
the  poop.  Sunset  and  ths  final  instant  of  crisis  had  come 
together. 

From  among  the  men  grouped  about  the  hatch  one 
stepped  forward,  as  if  to  speak.  Captain  Dove  held  up  his 
hand  and  the  fellow  hesitated,  with  bent  brows.  A  quick, 
angry  growl  arose  from  among  his  neighbours.  But  Captain 
Dove  was  not  to  be  hurried.  He  cleared  his  throat  and  spat 
indifferently  into  the  scuppers. 

"  I've  a  little  job  ashore  for  you  lads  to-night,"  he  said 
then,  in  a  tone  audible  to  all,  "  a  job  that'll  fill  our  empty 
pockets  properly  —  if  it's  properly  carried  out.  We  haven't 
been  so  lucky  of  late  that  we  can  afford  to  lay  off  just  yet. 
What  money  there  is  on  board  means  no  more  than  a  few 
dollars  apiece,  share  and  share  alike.  I  know  where  I  can 
lay  my  hands  on  a  thousand  at  least  for  each  of  us.  If  you 
think  that's  worth  your  while,  get  away  forward  now  to  your 
supper;  the  others  are  coming  aft  for  their  ammunition." 

He  ceased  abruptly,  and  for  a  moment  no  one  answered 
him  or  made  any  move.  He  had  succeeded  in  raising  their 
curiosity,  and  so  gained  some  trifling  respite  at  least  for 
himself.  They  were  turning  over  in  their  dense  minds,  how- 
ever suspiciously,  this  new  and  plausible  suggestion  of  his. 

It  was  no  news  that  there  was  very  little  money  on  board, 
.and  —  they  were  of  a  class  which  always  can  be  led  to  grasp 
at  the  shadow  if  that  looks  larger  to  them  than  the  sub- 


16  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

stance  itself.  They  hesitated  —  and  they  were  lost.  Cap- 
tain Dove  had  descended  among  them,  and  as  if  the  subject 
were  closed,  was  pushing  his  way  through  the  gathering 
with  a  good-humoured,  masterful,  "  Get  forward.  Get 
away  forward,  now." 

And  they  gave  way  again  before  him,  apparently  forget- 
ful of  their  purpose  there,  quite  willing,  since  they  held 
the  power  securely  in  their  own  hands,  to  await  the  out- 
come of  one  more  night.  In  the  morning,  and  rich,  as  he 
promised,  or  no  worse  off  if  his  promise  failed,  they  could 
just  as  conveniently  close  their  account  with  him.  As  the 
others  came  crowding  aft,  those  already  possessed  of  ban- 
doliers began  to  file  forward,  exchanging  rough  jokes  with 
their  fellows. 

Captain  Dove  addressed  a  parting  remark  to  them  from 
the  poop.  "  We  won't  be  going  ashore  till  midnight,"  said 
he,  "  and  I  must  get  some  sleep  or  I  won't  be  fit  for  the  work 
we've  to  do  there.  I'm  sick  enough  as  it  is.  Get  that  hatch- 
cover  on  again  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  keep  to  your  own  end 
of  the  ship  till  the  time  comes.  I'll  send  you  forward  a 
hogshead  of  rum  to  help  it  along." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  a  voice  answered  him  cheerily  from  out  of 
the  gathering  darkness,  and  Sallie  saw  that  he  almost  smiled 
to  himself  as  he  staggered  toward  the  companion-hatch. 

There  he  would  have  fallen,  spent,  but  that  she,  at  his 
shoulder,  caught  hold  of  him  and  held  him  up  till  Slyne 
came  to  her  assistance.  And  they  together  got  him  safely 
below. 

"  Gimme  brandy,"  he  gasped,  as  he  lay  limply  back  in 
the  chair  on  which  they  had  set  him.  His  lips  were  white. 
His  overworked  heart  had  almost  failed  him  under  the 
strain  he  had  put  on  it. 


"  DUTCH  COURAGE "  17 

The  stimulant  still  served  its  purpose,  however.  He  sat 
up  again,  revived. 

"  But  that  was  an  uncommon  close  call!  "  he  commented, 
half  to  himself.  "  I  felt  blind-sure  I'd  have  a  bayonet 
through  my  back  before  I  could  play  my  last  card.  And  I 
didn't  believe  I'd  win  out  even  with  that.  But  here  I  am, 
and  —  "  He  turned  to  the  girl  at  his  side, 

"  Don't  stand  there  idling,  Sallie,"  he  ordered  queru- 
lously, "  when  there's  so  much  to  be  done.  Tell  Ambrizette 
to  bring  me  a  bull's-eye  lantern.  Go  up  and  see  if  the  decks 
are  clear  yet.  Send  Reuben  Yoxall  down  to  me  as  soon  as 
they  are.  And  then  get  ready  for  going  ashore.  You'll 
have  to  wear  something  that  won't  be  seen  —  but  take  a 
couple  of  Arab  cloaks  in  a  bundle  with  you  as  well." 

At  that  Jasper  Slyne  spoke,  divided  between  doubt  and 
anger. 

"  What  devilment  have  you  in  your  mind  now,  Dove?  " 
he  demanded.  "  You  surely  don't  mean  to  —  You  told 
me  yourself  that  there's  nothing  but  dangerous  desert 
ashore  here." 

"  Never  you  mind  what  I  mean  to  do,  Mister  Slyne," 
Captain  Dove  answered  him  with  a  gratified  grin,  picking 
up  the  brandy  bottle  again.  "  When  I  want  any  advice 
from  you,  I'll  let  you  know.  And,  if  I  ever  ask  you  again 
to  help  me  into  my  clothes,  you'll  maybe  be  more  obliging 
next  time. 

"  Dutch  courage  is  cheap  enough,  Mister  Slyne,"  said 
the  old  man  tauntingly.  "  So  I'm  going  ashore,  —  into  the 
dangerous  desert,  —  in  a  few  minutes,  with  Sallie.  But 
there's  nothing  you  need  be  afraid  of,  for  you're  going  to 
stay  safe  on  board," 


CHAPTER  III 

EL  PARISH 

ON  the  stealthy-looking  little  grey  steamship  at  anchor 
under  the  obscure  stars  not  even  a  riding-light  was 
visible.  But  she  was  close  to  the  desolate  coast, 
well  out  of  the  way  of  all  respectable  traffic.  And  a  solitary 
figure,  squatted  in  the  bows,  pipe  in  mouth,  pannikin  of  rum 
within  easy  reach,  was  keeping  a  perfunctory  anchor- watch, 
staring  idly  seaward  so  that  he  saw  nothing  of  a  tiny  light 
which  flashed  three  times  from  the  shore  in  belated  response 
to  a  similar  signal  from  a  screened  port  in  the  poop-cabin. 

But  for  him,  the  decks  were  deserted.  From  the  crew's 
quarters  came  frequent  outbursts  of  ribald  talk  and  uproari- 
ous laughter,  the  odour  of  food,  the  clank  and  clatter  of 
tin-ware  empty  or  full.  The  crew  were  at  supper  and  satis- 
fied for  the  present. 

From  the  companion-hatch  on  the  poop  four  soundless 
shadows  emerged.  Two  of  them  were  carrying  cautiously 
a  long,  flat  fabric  which  they  in  a  moment  or  two  converted 
into  a  fourteen-foot  canvas  boat.  These  two  lowered  that 
overside.  One  of  the  others,  a  bundle  in  hand,  slipped  easily 
down  into  it  by  means  of  a  rope  made  fast  to  a  stanchion. 
The  last,  cursing  under  his  breath,  was  helped  over  the  rail, 
with  one  foot  in  a  loop  of  the  same  line,  by  the  two  remain- 
ing on  deck. 

Sallie,  safely  seated  in  the  cockleshell  below,  laid  a  pair 


EL  PARISH  19 

of  muffled  oars  in  the  rowlocks  and  pushed  quietly  off  from 
under  the  dripping  overhang  of  the  ship.  Captain  Dove, 
crouching  in  its  stern,  whispered  curt  directions  to  her. 
She  could  just  see  Reuben  Yoxall  and  Jasper  Slyne  standing 
side  by  side  at  the  steamer's  taffrail,  and  then  the  black 
bulk  of  the  Olive  Branch  became  merged  in  the  blacker 
water. 

Once  out  of  earshot  of  the  ship,  she  set  to  rowing  in  ear- 
nest, a  strong,  steady  stroke,  like  one  well  accustomed  to 
that  exercise;  and  Captain  Dove,  with  an  eye  cocked  at  a 
helpful  star  twinkling  dimly  through  the  heat-haze,  kept  her 
heading  straight  for  the  shore.  The  boom  of  the  breakers 
soon  began  to  grow  louder,  but,  even  when  it  had  become 
almost  deafening,  she  did  not  look  round.  They  had  got 
into  broken  water  and  it  was  taking  her  all  her  time  to 
handle  the  oars. 

She  was  breathless  and  all  but  exhausted  before  they 
at  length  shot  dizzily  out  of  the  wild  turmoil  of  the  surf 
into  a  tranquil,  land-locked  lagoon,  concealed  from  seaward 
by  a  long  sand-spit,  which  served  it  as  a  breakwater  in  such 
smooth  weather. 

"  Way  enough,"  said  the  old  man  gruffly,  and,  as  Sallie 
shipped  her  oars,  the  light  craft  lost  speed.  Presently,  its 
prow  took  the  sand,  and  at  last  they  were  free  of  the  omi- 
nous, phosphorescent  black  fins  which  had  followed  them 
from  where  they  had  left  the  ship. 

"  Strike  a  match,"  ordered  Captain  Dove,  and  held  out  a 
stump  of  candle.  "  Light  this  and  stick  it  on  the  gunwale. 
Now,  on  with  your  cloak  and  hood  —  and  lend  me  a  hand 
with  mine." 

The  tiny  flame  at  her  elbow  burned  steadily  enough  in 
the  still  night,  while  Sallie  was  slipping  on  over  her  dark 


20  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

dress  the  white  robe  he  had  bidden  her  bring  with  her.  As 
soon  as  she  had  hooded  her  head  and  drawn  the  veil  well 
over  her  features,  she  turned  to  help  him.  She  was  smooth- 
ing the  crumpled  burnous  about  his  shoulders  while  he 
tugged  irritably  at  it  with  his  only  available  hand,  grum- 
bling at  her  in  a  low  monotone,  when  she  heard  a  sudden 
splashing  behind  her  and,  glancing  round,  saw  a  number  of 
other  white-robed  figures  wading  out  through  the  shallows 
towards  the  boat  and  its  flickering  light.  Captain  Dove 
took  their  coming  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  she  sat  down 
again  silently,  though  that  cost  her  a  great  effort.  It  was 
unspeakably  eerie  there,  in  the  very  heart  of  a  darkness  that 
seemed  to  be  whispering  hints  of  such  horrors  as  only  exist 
in  the  dark. 

The  old  man  exchanged  a  few  low  words  in  doggerel 
Arabic  with  the  strangers.  Two  of  them,  tall,  brown,  fierce- 
faced  fellows,  slung  over  their  shoulders  the  long  guns  with 
which  they  were  armed,  stooped  and  lifted  Sallie  lightly  up, 
carried  her  to  the  shore  dry-shod.  She  was  still  shivering 
nervously  when  two  more  deposited  Captain  Dove  at  her 
side,  and  then  the  canvas  boat  was  brought  high  and  dry. 
At  a  curt  remark  from  him  a  makeshift  litter  was  formed  of 
four  rifles  and,  seated  on  that,  he  was  carried  away  as  if  he 
had  been  a  mere  featherweight,  Sallie  following  close  be- 
hind on  foot,  uncomfortably  conscious  of  the  shadows  at 
her  own  shoulders. 

It  was  hard  work  for  her  in  the  darkness  and  ankle-deep 
in  the  soft,  loose  sand  at  every  step,  although  his  bearers 
made  little  enough  of  their  burden.  But  farther  on  the 
footing  grew  firmer,  and  then  they  came  to  a  rough,  trodden 
path. 

That  led  them  to  the  still  darker  mouth  of  a  narrow  de- 


EL  PARISH  21 

file  between  two  low,  rocky  bluffs,  and  from  the  summit 
of  one  of  these  there  suddenly  rang  a  harsh  challenge.  It 
was  answered  at  once  by  their  escort,  and  they  went 
on  without  pause  through  that  pitch-black,  crooked  passage 
with  its  invisible,  whispering  guard,  until,  emerging  at  an 
unexpected  turn  from  its  landward  outlet,  a  most  astonish- 
ing panorama  presented  itself  to  the  girl's  startled 
eyes. 

Within  a  titanic  natural  amphitheatre  formed  by  the  rock- 
ridge  which,  except  for  the  cleft  they  had  entered  by,  en- 
closed it  completely,  there  had  been  pitched  an  encamp- 
ment that  occupied  its  entire  arena.  Everywhere  there 
were  dry  desert  fires,  burning  redly,  with  little  flame,  and 
the  vault  of  heaven  overhead  was  like  some  vast  crimson 
dome  reflecting  a  light  whose  effect  was  weird  and  unreal 
to  the  last  degree.  Sallie,  gazing  about  her  with  lips  a  little 
apart  behind  her  veil,  could  scarcely  convince  herself  that 
she  was  not  dreaming. 

In  the  foreground,  on  one  side  of  the  wide  way  which 
led  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  camp,  there  were  picketed 
rows  upon  rows  of  whinnying  horses,  and  on  the  other  al- 
most as  many  restless  mehari  camels,  among  which  a  num- 
ber of  negroes,  presumably  slaves,  were  briskly  at  work. 
Past  these  was  a  wide,  open  space,  at  whose  other  edge 
stood  a  flagpole  from  which  a  great  green  flag  with  a 
golden  harp  on  it  fluttered  and  flapped  in  the  red^firelight 
on  the  first  of  the  evening  breeze.  Under  that  was  a  group 
of  men,  all  in  flowing  garments,  one  seated  in  state,  the 
others  standing  about  him.  A  dozen  paces  behind  them  a 
white  pavilion  that  seemed  rose-pink,  with  a  heavily  cur- 
tained porch,  occupied  a  roomy,  level  expanse  by  itself. 
Surrounding  and  encircling  it  on  three  sides,  but  at  a  re- 


22  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

spectful  distance,  stretching  as  far  back  as  the  foot  of  the 
steep  rock-rampart  which  hemmed  them  in,  was  ranged  an 
orderly  assemblage  of  horsehair  tents,  whose  inhabitants, 
loose-robed  men,  swart  women,  and  half -naked  children, 
were  all  very  busy  about  them  in  the  open  air.  Everywhere 
there  was  life  and  bustle.  .  .  . 

Beneath  the  searching  rays  of  the  sun  it  would  all,  no 
doubt,  have  appeared  travel-stained  and  sordid  and  tawdry 
to  a  degree.  But  the  desert  night  and  the  dim  stars  brood- 
ing above  it  had  imbued  it  with  all  their  own  magic  and 
mystery. 

Captain  Dove's  carriers  strode  forward  with  him  and  set 
him  carefully  on  his  feet  before  the  green  flag,  under  which, 
on  a  great  gilt  chair,  sat  one  who  was  evidently  their  chief, 
a  man  in  the  very  prime  of  life  and  still  younger  yet  than 
his  years.  Sallie  eyed  him  over  her  veil  with  anxious  inter- 
est. The  group  behind  his  chair  was  regarding  her  with  no 
less  curiosity.  The  attention  of  the  multitude  among  the 
tents  had  been  attracted  to  the  new  arrivals,  and  many  in- 
quisitive onlookers,  more  women  than  men,  were  beginning 
to  gather  about  the  boundaries  of  the  area  sacred  to  their 
Emir  and  his  officers. 

That  dignitary  got  hastily  up  and  came  forward.  He 
was  tall  and  stalwart  on  foot,  a  fine  figure  of  a  man  even  in 
his  loose,  shapeless  garments,  with  a  bronzed,  hook-nosed, 
handsome  face  of  his  own,  a  heavy  moustache,  the  brooding, 
patient,  predatory  eyes  of  a  desert  vulture.  And,  as  he 
confronted  Captain  Dove,  over  whom  he  seemed  to  tower 
threateningly,  the  hood  of  the  selham  slipped  on  to  his 
shoulders,  disclosing  a  flaming  shock  of  red  hair. 

"  At  last!  "  he  said,  after  a  long  time,  in  the  difficult  voice 
of  one  amazed  almost  beyond  words.  The  muscles  of  his 


EL  PARISH  23 

lean,  brown  face  were  working  visibly.  His  eyes  had  be- 
come inflamed,  his  fingers  were  twitching. 

"  At  last!  "  he  said  again,  as  if  finally  convinced  in  spite 
of  himself,  and  licked  his  lips. 

But  Captain  Dove  met  his  wickedest  glance  unwink- 
ingly,  and  made  him  no  answer  at  all. 

For  a  moment  longer  they  two  stood  gazing  thus  at  each 
other,  the  onlookers  silent  and  still.  And  then  the  big  man's 
blazing  eyes  shifted  to  the  face  of  the  girl  at  Captain  Dove's 
elbow.  Sallie's  veil  had  slipped  to  her  chin,  but  she  had 
been  unconscious  of  that  till  then.  She  pulled  it  up  across 
the  bridge  of  her  nose  again  hastily.  The  red-haired  Emir's 
scowl  had  relaxed ;  he  was  scanning  her  with  a  very  differ- 
ent expression  to  that  he  had  shown  Captain  Dove,  but  one 
which  alarmed  her  no  less. 

He  turned  to  the  group  behind  him  and,  at  a  word,  it 
melted  away.  The  onlookers  in  the  distance  also  went  about 
their  own  business  again.  A  black  slave-boy  came  stagger- 
ing forward  with  a  heavy  chair,  and  set  that  down  side  by 
side  with  the  other  there.  Captain  Dove  seated  himself  at 
once,  without  ceremony. 

The  Emir,  biting  his  lip,  followed  suit,  and  sat  for  a  time 
sunk  in  his  own  reflections.  He  seemed  to  have  mastered 
for  the  moment  his  first  almost  overwhelming  impulse  at 
sight  of  that  venerable-looking  adventurer,  and  had  evi- 
dently some  other  and  much  more  pleasant  idea  in  his  mind. 

"  That's  a  high-stepping  filly  you've  brought  with  you," 
said  he  at  length  in  a  puzzled  tone,  and  glanced  round  at 
Sallie  again.  She  was  standing  at  Captain  Dove's  other 
shoulder,  her  head  bent,  her  hands  clasped  before  her,  in 
helpless,  patient  suspense.  Captain  Dove  had  gruffly  in- 
formed her,  before  they  had  left  the  ship,  that  she  would  be 


24  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

perfectly  safe  in  his  company,  but  even  his  own  safety 
seemed  to  be  hanging  on  a  very  slender  thread. 

"  I  wonder,  now,"  the  Emir  went  on,  "  if  it's  to  seek  trade 
that  you've  come  ashore  here  again  —  after  all  these 
years."  His  face  once  more  darkened,  as  if  over  some  recol- 
lection that  rankled  sorely,  but  which  he  was  doing  his  best 
to  dismiss  from  his  thoughts  in  the  meantime. 

"  I've  some  trifles  in  hand  that  might  interest  you  if  it  is 
trade  you're  after,"  said  he,  speaking  amicably  with  an 
effort,  "  such  truck  as  gold-dust,  and  jewels,  and  silk  - 
and  ivory,  too,  galore." 

The  black  boy  had  come  back  with  an  unwieldy  tray  of 
a  dull  yellow  metal  on  which  were  set  two  cool,  moist, 
earthenware  chatties  and  a  couple  of  uncouth  drinking-cups. 
Captain  Dove,  with  unerring  instinct,  laid  his  hand  on  the 
flagon  which  held  strong  drink,  poured  out  for  himself  a 
liberal  helping  of  the  sticky  magia  it  contained,  and  swal- 
lowed that  off  without  a  word.  After  the  Emir  had  also 
helped  himself  the  boy  would  have  carried  the  tray  away, 
but  Captain  Dove  bade  him  set  it  down  and  dealt  him  an 
indignant  cuff,  so  that  he  fled  empty-handed,  with  an  an- 
guished yelp. 

"  It  wasn't  exactly  to  pay  you  a  polite  call  that  I  came 
ashore  to  this  God-forsaken  hole,  Parish,"  the  old  man  at 
last  remarked,  with  uncompromising  frankness.  "  The 
fact  of  the  matter  is  —  I'm  in  a  bit  of  a  bog  just  now.  And 
I've  come  to  get  you  to  give  me  a  hand  out  of  ft  —  if  your 
price  isn't  too  high  for  me  to  pay." 

The  Emir  stared  at  him,  open-mouthed. 

"  You  were  always  the  bold  one,  Captain  Brown,"  said 
he,  reminiscently,  after  a  lengthy  interval,  "  but  this  beats 
all!  And  it's  to  the  man  you  set  ashore  here,  alone,  long 


EL  PARISH  25 

years  ago,  to  die  in  the  desert  like  a  mad  dog,  that  you  come 
demanding  a  hand  to  get  you  out  of  a  bit  of  a  bog!  You've 
surely  forgotten  —  " 

/'  I'm  not  one  who  forgets,"  Captain  Dove  interrupted 
sourly.  "  And  you'll  maybe  remember,  since  you  think  it's 
worth  while  to  hark  back  to  such  old  stories,  that  I  didn't 
shoot  you  down  at  once,  as  I  might  have  done  —  for  dis- 
obedience of  orders.  I  gave  you  a  chance  for  your  life, 
anyhow.  And  you've  made  a  very  good  thing  out  of  it. 
You've  risen  in  the  world,  Parish,  since  you  were  the  second 
mate  of  the  old  Per  de  Lance  —  and  I  was  Captain  John 
Bunyan  Brown.  I'm  Captain  Dove  now,  by  the  way." 

"  And  how  did  you  know  who  it  was  would  be  here  to- 
night? "  the  soi-disant  Emir  demanded,  turning  it  all  over 
in  his  own  mind. 

"  The  Spaniards  at  the  Rio  de  Oro  told  me,  when  I  called 
in  there  the  other  day,  that  they  were  expecting  the  Emir 
El  Parish  shortly,  from  this  direction,  and,  of  course,  I 
pricked  up  my  ears  at  the  name.  I  asked  a  few  simple  ques- 
tions about  him,  and  it  didn't  lake  a  great  deal  of  brain- 
power to  figure  out  that  the  famous  Emir  was  just  my  old 
second  mate  turned  land  pirate  on  his  own  account.  They 
wanted  me  to  wait  on  the  chance  of  a  cargo  from  your 
caravan,  but  —  I  had  other  fish  to  fry  at  the  time. 

"Then,  coming  up  the  coast,  I  caught  sight  of  your 
smoke  from  the  steamer's  bridge  —  at  least  I  judged  it  would 
be  yours.  I  reckoned  you'd  be  camping  here,  you  see,  and, 
when  you  answered  my  signal,  I  was  quite  sure.  So  — 
I'm  in  a  bit  of  a  bog,  as  I  told  you.  And  it'll  pay  you  to 
give  me  a  hand  out  of  it  —  if  your  price  isn't  too  high." 

'  The  price  that  you'll  have  to  pay  for  my  help  you  can 
guess  now  without  my  telling  you,"  returned  the  Emir  in  a 


26  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

muffled  whisper,  and  nodded  meaningly  over  his  shoulder. 
"  And  you'll  find  me  a  fair  man  to  deal  with,  so  long  as  you 
deal  fairly  by  me." 

Captain  Dove  signified  his  comprehension  by  means  of  a 
non-committal  grunt.  He  stooped  down  and  helped  himself 
awkwardly  to  another  drink  before  making  any  other  an- 
swer. 

"  But  —  you've  got  a  wife  already,"  he  whispered  back, 
at  a  shrewd  guess,  as  he  sat  up  again,  smiling  blandly. 

"  I  won't  have  her  long,  poor  thing!  "  said  the  other, 
some  tinge  of  real  regret  in  his  tone.  "  And  I'll  miss  her, 
too,  when  she's  gone,  let  me  tell  you."  He  sat  silent  for  a 
moment,  musing,  and  then,  "  'Twas  a  notable  revenge  that 
I  took  on  them-alll  "  he  muttered  darkly.  "  But  I'll  miss 
her  for  herself  as  well  —  after  all  these  years. 

"  It's  the  desert  has  killed  her,"  he  said,  pulling  at  his 
moustache.  "  I've  had  a  doctor-fellow  with  her  for  a  while 
past  —  I  saved  him  out  of  an  exploring  party  we  cut  up 
near  Jebado.  'Twas  nearly  three  weeks  ago  he  told  me  she 
hadn't  a  month  to  live.  The  sand's  got  into  her  lungs,  he 
says  —  and  I've  promised  to  shovel  him  into  a  sand-pit 
alive  the  day  she  dies,  to  see  how  he  likes  the  sand  in  his 
own  lungs,  the  useless  scum!  " 

He  sighed  stormily,  and  then  seemed  to  bethink  himself 
again  of  the  girl  listening  behind.  In  answer  to  a  call  of 
his,  in  a  caressing  voice,  there  came  from  the  big  tent  in  the 
background  a  woman,  veiled  as  Sallie  was  but  clad  in  silk 
instead  of  cotton,  who  bowed  submissively  to  what  he  had 
to  say  to  her  and  then  held  out  a  slender,  bloodless,  burning 
hand  to  Sallie. 

"  Go  with  her,"  ordered  Captain  Dove.  "  You'll  be  all 
right.  I'll  shout  for  you  when  I  want  you  again." 


EL  PARISH  27 

And  Sallie,  glad  so  to  escape  from  the  Emir's  glance, 
went  willingly  enough.  It  would  not  have  helped  her  in 
any  way  then  to  disobey  Captain  Dove.  But  her  hand, 
within  the  other  woman's,  was  as  cold  as  ice. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  MASQUE   OF  DEATH 

THEY  passed  together  through  the  curtained  porch  of 
the  pavilion,  and  Sallie  looked  about  her  with  blink- 
ing eyes  as  the  Emir's  wife  led  her  toward  a  long, 
low,  cushioned  divan,  with  a  tall  screen  of  black  carved 
ebony  behind  it,  which  stood  in  one  of  the  corners  formed  by 
the  partitions  within. 

The  entire  interior  of  the  tent  was  brilliantly  lighted  by 
many  lamps  of  a  dull  yellow  metal,  swung  from  under  the 
billowy  silken  ceiling.  Underfoot  were  carpets  and  rugs 
of  the  most  costly,  chosen  with  taste.  The  inner  divisions 
seemed  almost  solid  behind  their  heavy  hangings  of  em- 
broidery and  filigree  work.  About  the  couch  in  the  corner 
were  grouped  a  number  of  languorous  women  slaves,  all 
very  richly  dressed.  The  whole  effect  was  one  of  barbaric 
splendour  and  luxury. 

Her  women  crossed  their  arms  on  their  breasts  and  bowed 
before  the  Emir's  wife,  their  golden  bangles  jingling.  She 
drew  Sallie  down  on  the  couch  beside  her  and  waved  them 
away.  They  backed  into  another  corner  with  heads  still 
bent,  but  stealing  furtive  glances  at  the  fair  stranger. 
Sallie  had  let  her  veil  fall;  the  heat  was  stifling. 

The  Emir's  wife  laid  a  hand  on  her  heart  and  panted,  as 
if  she  had  been  running.  A  hectic  flush  had  coloured 
her  sunken  cheeks.  Sallie  saw  that  she  must  once  have 
been  a  very  good-looking  girl. 


THE  MASQUE  OF  DEATH  29 

"  How  did  you  come  to  our  camp?  "  she  asked,  suppress- 
ing with  a  great  effort  the  cough  her  labouring  chest  could 
scarcely  contain.  "  Is  there  another  caravan  near,  or  — 
a  ship?  " 

"  A  ship,"  Sallie  answered  gently,  forgetting  all  her  own 
urgent  troubles  in  quick  compassion  for  that  poor  soul. 
And  the  dying  girl's  feverish  eyes  grew  suddenly  eager. 

"  A  ship!  "  she  repeated  breathlessly,  and  for  a  moment 
or  two  seemed  to  be  searching  Sallie's  expressively  pitiful 
features  for  some  further  information,  which  she  found 
there.  The  anxiety  in  her  eyes  changed  to  appeal,  and  then 
certainty. 

"  You'll  help  —  me,"  she  whispered.  "  I  know  you  will." 
And  she  began  to  cough. 

Two  or  three  of  her  women  came  running  forward  to  offer 
her  such  first  aid  as  lay  in  their  power.  Another  had  hur- 
ried off  through  a  curtained  doorway  which  led  inward,  and 
promptly  returned,  followed  by  two  enormous  negroes, 
vile-looking  rascals,  each  wearing  a  scanty  tunic  of  leopard- 
skins  which  hung  from  one  shoulder  and  did  not  reach  to 
his -knees,  with  a  broad  waist-belt  which  also  served  to 
contain  a  short,  heavy  scimitar,  in  a  metal  scabbard.  Be- 
tween them  walked  a  man,  a  white  man  to  judge  by  his 
hands,  since  his  head  was  completely  masked  in  a  hood  of 
coarse  scarlet  cotton,  with  only  a  couple  of  careless  eyelet- 
holes  and  a  rough  round  mouth  cut  in  it.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  worn  drill  tunic  and  riding-breeches  and  pigskin  put- 
tees, and  carried  himself,  a  thin,  limber,  muscular  figure, 
with  careless  ease. 

Sallie  took  him  to  be  that  doctor  of  whom  the  Emir  had 
spoken,  and  shuddered  at  thought  of  the  dreadful  death 
with  which  the  Emir  had  threatened  him.  His  guards' 


30  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

cruel  faces  grew  still  more  watchful  and  grim  as  he  hastened, 
limping  a  little,  toward  the  couch,  while  they  were  still 
saluting  its  occupant. 

Sallie  had  risen  from  it  and  was  standing  with  one  arm 
about  the  other  girl's  heaving  shoulders,  adjusting  her  veil. 
The  cough  had  ceased  again,  but  its  victim  had  not  yet 
recovered  her  voice.  The  man  in  the  mask  glanced  most 
unhappily  at  her  and  then  at  Sallie.  But  it  was  not  concern 
on  his  own  account  that  his  steady  grey  eyes  expressed. 

He  was  about  to  speak,  when  the  Emir's  wife  held  up  a 
thin,  transparent  hand.  "  Wait,"  she  begged  weakly. 
"  There  is  so  little  time  —  and  my  strength  - 

He  pulled  a  glass  tube  from  one  of  his  pockets  and  gave 
her  a  tabloid.  She  swallowed  it  down,  with  a  mouthful  of 
water,  indifferently,  but  it  soon  did  her  good.  She  signed 
her  women  aside,  and  looked  imploringly  up  at  Sallie. 

"  I  can't  live  through  another  night,"  she  said,  "  and  — 
neither  will  this  man,  unless  you  help  me  to  help  him.  You 
will  do  that,  won't  you?  He's  an  Englishman  —  a  doctor 
—  he  has  done  all  he  possibly  could  for  me  —  and  I  cannot 
die  while  I  know  that  his  life  hangs  on  mine.  It's  too  hor- 
rible —  " 

Sallie  sat  down  again  and  clasped  the  wasted,  writhing 
body  closely  to  her  in  her  strong,  young  arms. 

"I'll  do  all  I  possibly  can  to  help  him,"  she  promised  in  a 
quick  whisper.  The  grey  eyes  behind  the  horrible  scarlet 
hood  had  seemed  to  say  that  they  would  not  hold  her  re- 
sponsible for  any  promise  given  to  lighten  that  poor  crea- 
ture's last  hours.  And  the  Emir's  wife  lay  back  against 
her  shoulder  with  an  exhausted  sob  of  relief. 

"  I'm  really  an  American,"  said  a  pleasant  and  very 
grateful  voice  from  behind  the  mask  which  was  gazing  down 


THE  MASQUE  OF  DEATH  31 

at  them  so  inscrutably  now,  "  and  no  doctor  at  all."  He 
was  speaking  to  Sallie ;  the  Emir's  wife  was  still  gasping 
for  breath.  "  But  —  you  can  see  for  yourself  how 
very  harmful  this  nervous  excitement  must  be  to 
her." 

"  We  must  humour  her  —  whatever  may  happen,"  his 
glance  seemed  to  add,  and  Sallie  nodded  in  quick  under- 
standing and  sympathy. 

She  had  been  wondering  what  she,  so  helpless  and  uncer- 
tain herself,  could  possibly  do  to  reassure  the  dying  girl  and 
help  the  man  who  was  doomed. 

"  If  I  could  get  back  on  board  the  ship,"  she  said  some- 
what uncertainly,  in  answer  to  the  appealing  look  with 
which  the  Emir's  wife  was  once  more  regarding  her,  "  I 
would  bring  or  send  a  boat  ashore  —  " 

The  other  girl's  wan  face  displayed  renewed  life  and  ani- 
mation. 

"  Soon  after  midnight,"  she  whispered  eagerly.  "  You 
must  give  me  till  then  to  do  my  part.  But  soon  after  mid- 
night he  will  be  waiting  beyond  the  outermost  of  the  guards 
at  the  shore-end  of  the  ravine  which  leads  from  our  camp. 
He'll  be  wearing  that  woman's  cloak  and  veil,  and  carrying 
a  bucket  —  I  sometimes  send  her  to  the  beach  for  sea-water 
to  bathe  my  feet."  She  pointed  to  one  of  her  slaves,  but 
at  that  the  man  in  the  mask  intervened. 

"  I  couldn't  do  that.    Your  husband  would  —  : 

She  held  up  a  hand  again,  and  he  said  no  more,  only 
shaking  his  head.  He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  she 
was  not  to  be  contradicted. 

"  The  woman  is  mine,"  said  the  Emir's  wife,  "  and  my 
husband  will  not  hurt  a  hair  of  her  head  while  she  obeys  me. 
He  has  sworn  that  on  the  Cross.  He  will  keep  his  oath  — 


32  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

and  you  have  my  word  as  well  that  she  shall  come  to  no 
harm.    You  need  have  no  scruples,  then!  " 

She  looked  impatiently  up  at  the  scarlet  mask  bending 
over  her,  not  to  be  satisfied  until  it  bowed  in  submission 
to  her  authority  there.  But  Sallie  could  read  in  the  stead- 
fast grey  eyes  behind  it  a  dumb  determination  that  the 
slave  girl  should  run  no  such  risk,  and  she  did  not  think  it 
needful  at  that  moment  to  say  anything  about  the  other 
difficulties  to  be  overcome.  She  had  promised  that  she 
would  do  all  she  possibly  could  to  help  the  man  in  the  mask, 
and  believed  she  could  help  him  best  in  the  meantime  by 
keeping  her  own  troubles  to  herself. 

She  did  not  even  know  as  yet  what  Captain  Dove's  im- 
mediate intentions  toward  her  were,  or  whether  she  herself 
would  ever  see  the  Olive  Branch  again.  But  —  she  would 
know  before  very  long,  and  it  would  be  time  enough  then  to 
explain  her  own  plight. 

"  Feel  my  pulse  now,  before  you  go,"  the  pseudo-doctor's 
patient  commanded,  and  he  did  so,  drawing  out  his  watch, 
while  she  continued  to  plan  for  his  flight. 

"  I'll  send  for  you  again  before  midnight,"  she  said  rap- 
idly, for  his  guards  had  begun  to  show  signs  of  unrest  as 
his  visit  grew  more  prolonged,  "  and  you  must  bring  your  - 
your  —  "    She  tapped  her  chest,  very  tenderly,  with  her 
free  hand. 

"  Stethoscope?  "  he  suggested,  and  she  nodded  quickly. 

"  You'll  come  in  your  cloak  —  it  will  be  cold  then.  My 
women  will  draw  a  screen  about  us.  As  soon  as  you  are 
safely  behind  it,  slip  off  your  shoes  and  gaiters  while  they 
are  changing  your  cloak  and  hood.  There  will  not  be  a  mo- 
ment to  spare.  And  now  —  you  must  go." 

He  released  her  wrist  and  stood  upright  again. 


THE  MASQUE  OF  DEATH  33 

"  I  shall  come  whenever  you  send  for  me,  of  course,"  he 
assured  her  soothingly,  although  his  eyes,  meeting  Sallie's 
for  an  instant,  betrayed  the  stubborn  will  behind  them. 
"  And  I'm  far  more  grateful  than  I  can  express  for  your 
good-will  toward  me.  So  now  you'll  rest  quietly,  won't 
you?  And  try  not  to  worry  needlessly  about  —  anything  at 
all.  You're  not  afraid,  I  know.  And  neither  am  I." 

He  bowed  to  them  both  in  his  hideous  hood,  and  went 
back  to  his  scowling  guards. 

The  Emir's  dying  wife  lay  very  quietly  in  Sallie's  arms 
for  some  time  after  he  had  gone.  She  was  quite  exhausted 
again.  Her  women,  in  a  group  at  a  little  distance,  were 
watching  with  jealous  eyes  the  fair  stranger  who  had  sup- 
planted them  with  such  ease.  The  only  sounds  that  broke 
the  silence  were  the  sick  girl's  laboured  breathing,  the  occa- 
sional hoarse,  angry  rumble  of  Captain  Dove's  voice  out- 
side. Sallie  was  listening  anxiously  for  that.  She  could 
hear  no  word  of  what  he  said,  but  —  she  wanted  to  be  quite 
sure  that  he  was  still  there.  It  was  not  her  own  fate  alone 
that  now  depended  on  what  these  strangely  dragging 
minutes  should  bring  to  pass. 

"  Lay  me  back  on  the  cushions  now,"  begged  the  girl  in 
her  arms.  "  I  feel  better  —  in  every  way.  And  —  tell  me 
how  you  came  here,  in  the  nick  of  time.  I'm  so  thankful  — 
but  you  know  that,  and  I  mustn't  talk  too  much,  I  have 
so  little  strength  left,  and  — 

"  Who  is  that  shouting?  " 

"  It's  Captain  Dove,"  Sallie  answered  in  haste.  "  He 
brought  me  here.  I  must  go  to  him  now,  but  I'll  come  back 
before  —  "  She  had  no  time  to  say  more,  for  Captain  Dove 
had  called  her  again,  in  a  very  angry  voice. 

He  was  shaking  his  only  available  fist  impotently  at  the 


34  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

high  heavens  when  she  stepped  timidly  out  from  under 
the  curtained  porch  of  the  tent. 

She  hesitated,  but  for  no  more  than  a  moment,  and  then, 
drawing  her  veil  closer,  went  on  across  the  sand,  with  beat- 
ing heart. 

"  You  called  me,  Captain  Dove?  "  she  said,  as  she 
stopped  at  the  old  man's  shoulder.  And  he  ceased  blas- 
pheming to  glare  round  at  her  as  though  she  had  been  some 
intrusive  stranger,  his  face  very  puffed  and  repulsive  in  the 
red  firelight. 

He  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  reached  again  for  the 
earthenware  flagon.  It  was  lying  on  its  side  empty,  for 
she  had  tipped  it  over  with  a  stealthy  foot. 

His  angry  glance  grew  darker  with  suspicion,  but  her  eyes 
were  downcast. 

"  Come  round  in  front,"  he  ordered  harshly,  and  she  had 
once  more  to  submit  herself  to  the  Emir's  appraising  glance. 

He  and  Captain  Dove  had  still  much  to  say  to  each  other, 
too,  while  she  stood  patiently  there,  like  a  slave  for  sale. 
They  fell  to  arguing  with  much  heat  some  point  in  dispute 
between  them,  an  argument  she  could  not  follow  since  they 
were  speaking  some  jargon  of  Arabic  strange  to  her.  But 
she  knew  very  well  that  it  was  about  her  they  were  wran- 
gling, and  a  cold  fear  clutched  cruelly  at  her  heart. 

At  last,  however,  the  Emir  appeared  to  give  in  to  his 
visitor,  and  Captain  Dove,  after  a  final  ineffectual  snatch 
at  the  flagon,  got  on  to  his  feet,  since  even  that  hint  seemed 
to  be  thrown  away  on  his  host. 

"  We'll  get  off  to  the  ship  again,"  he  said  in  English,  and 
Sallie  could  almost  have  cried  aloud  in  relief  from  such  sore 
suspense. 

"  May  I  go  back  to  the  tent  —  just  for  a  minute  —  to  say 


THE  MASQUE  OF  DEATH  35 

good-bye?  "  she  begged  in  a  breathless  whisper,  and  turned 
and  ran. 

The  Emir's  wife  glanced  eagerly  up  at  her  as  she  reap- 
peared. 

"  I'm  going  back  on  board  now,"  Sallie  told  her  with 
shining  eyes,  which  suddenly  grew  dim  as  she  thought  of 
the  other  girl's  loneliness  there.  She  sank  on  her  knees 
beside  the  couch,  and  the  Emir's  wife,  leaning  forward, 
slipped  a  frail  arm  about  her  neck;  and  so  they  two,  sisters 
in  trouble,  kissed  each  other  good-bye  for  all  time. 

"  You'll  be  sure  to  send  the  boat  —  soon  after  mid- 
night? "  the  other  asked,  but  with  no  shadow  of  doubt  in 
her  low,  weak  tones. 

"  I'll  come  myself,  if  I  possibly  can,"  Sallie  promised, 
"  and,  if  not,  I'll  send  a  safe  friend  —  soon  after  midnight." 

As  she  was  rising,  she  saw  on  her  bosom  a  little  locket 
which  hung  from  a  thin  gold  chain.  She  lifted  a  hand  to 
it,  and  hesitated  uncertainly. 

"  It's  all  I  have  in  the  world  that's  my  own,"  said  the 
Emir's  wife  in  a  pleading  whisper,  "  all  I  can  offer  you  but 
my  empty  thanks.  I'd  like  to  think  to-night  that  you  will 
sometimes  remember  me.  Will  you  not  keep  it,  for  my 
sake?  " 

"  I'll  wear  it  always  —  I'll  never  forget  you  —  and  oh! 
I'm  so  sorry  that  I  must  go,"  cried  Sallie,  sorely  distressed, 
and  had  to  hurry  away  without  more  words.  Captain  Dove 
had  twice  called  her.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she 
ran  back  across  the  sand  to  where,  under  the  green  flag, 
he  was  wrathful  ly  waiting  for  her,  and  she  scarcely  heard 
his  harsh  order  to  hurry  up. 

Some  of  the  Emir's  men  had  come  forward  with  a  couple 
of  litters.  She  seated  herself  in  one,  although  she  would 


36  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

much  rather  have  walked,  and,  as  soon  as  Captain  Dove 
was  ready,  they  were  carried  off,  the  Emir  shouting  a  vale- 
dictory message  to  the  old  man. 

"  You  keep  your  bargain  and  I'll  keep  mine,"  Captain 
Dove  called  back,  and  snorted  contemptuously. 

"  That  damned  fellow  talks  to  me  as  if  I  had  been  his 
second  mate!  "  he  commented,  and  snorted  again. 

From  the  mouth  of  the  dark  defile  which  led  toward  the 
shore,  Sallie  looked  back  over  one  shoulder,  almost  as  an 
escaped  prisoner  might,  at  the  bizarre,  fantastic  scene  the 
still  camp  made  in  that  strange  crimson  light.  And  the 
big,  red-haired  Emir  standing  motionless  under  his  great 
green  flag,  whose  fluttering  folds  seen  from  that  distance 
seemed  of  the  colour  of  blood,  waved  a  hand  to  her  ere  she 
disappeared. 

She  shivered,  instinctively.  She  had  been  dumbly  afraid 
of  the  man,  and  that  although  she  was  possessed  of  a  cour- 
age such  as  could  look  grim  death  itself  in  the  empty  eye- 
holes and  smile.  She  was  correspondingly  thankful  when, 
the  gorge  and  its  sentinels  safely  behind  her,  she  found  her- 
self once  more  facing  the  open  sea. 

Captain  Dove's  carriers  set  him  down  alongside  the  boat, 
lying  high  and  dry  on  the  sands  where  they  had  left  it. 
Having  set  it  afloat,  they  lifted  him  carefully  into  it,  and  her 
also.  A  few  shallow  yards  from  the  shore,  she  slipped  off 
her  white  cloak  and  head- covering  at  an  order  from  the  old 
man,  and  so  set  to  rowing  again. 

Once,  one  of  her  oars  touched  some  invisible  body  swim- 
ming parallel  with  the  boat,  and  a  lightning-like  flash  of 
phosphorus  showed  a  curved  black  fin  that  darted  to  a 
little  distance  and  then  turned  back  toward  them.  It  was 
risky  work  crossing  the  bar,  but  both  she  and  Captain  Dove 


THE  MASQUE  OF  DEATH  37 

knew  just  what  they  were  about,  and  presently  they  shot 
free  of  the  surf  into  comparative  safety. 

"  Starboard  a  little,"  he  told  her  then,  and  ten  or  twelve 
minutes'  pulling  took  them  back  to  the  Olive  Branch,  which 
he  must  have  found  by  sheer  instinct,  since  the  ship  was 
showing  no  lights. 

They  approached  it  almost  soundlessly  from  astern,  so 
that  the  sleepy  look-out  on  the  fo'c'sle-head  neither  heard 
nor  saw  them.  For  even  the  stars  were  invisible  then 
through  the  curtain  of  vapour  overhanging  the  coast. 

Reuben  Yoxall,  the  mate,  was  awaiting  them  at  the  poop- 
rail.  He  threw  Sallie  a  line,  and  running  to  the  companion- 
hatch,  called  Jasper  Slyne  up  from  the  little  saloon  below. 
The  two  of  them  hoisted  Captain  Dove  up  the  side,  and 
after  him  Sallie,  as  light  and  agile  as  any-  boy.  The  canvas 
boat  was  easily  got  to  the  rail,  folded  flat  and  returned  to 
its  hiding-place. 

Sallie  stayed  on  deck,  and  Yoxall  was  not  long  in  rejoin- 
ing her  there.  Slyne  and  Captain  Dove  had  sat  down  to 
a  leisurely  supper  below.  The  plup!  of  a  cork  popping  in 
the  saloon  broke  the  silence  just  before  seven  bells  struck. 
They  had  half  an  hour  yet  till  midnight. 


CHAPTER  V 

AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE 

WHO'S  that,  Rube?  —  there,  by  the  hatch,"  whis- 
pered Sallie,  and  pointed  to  where  a  pair  of 
white  eyeballs  had  been  uncannily  visible  for  a 
moment  and  then  disappeared.  She  was  nervous  and  over- 
wrought in  the  midst  of  so  many  uncertainties. 

Yoxall  had  stepped  quickly  in  front  of  her.  He  caught 
sight  of  a  shadow  crawling  away  in  the  dark  on  the  deck 
below. 

"  One  of  the  niggers,"  he  told  her,  and  turned.  "  He's 
come  scouting  aft  more  than  once  while  you  were  ashore. 
Most  of  the  men  are  asleep,  I  suppose,  but  there  are  sure  to 
be  some  standing  guard  —  they  won't  run  any  risk  of  being 
caught  napping  by  Captain  Dove." 

She  fell  into  step  with  him  again,  and  presently,  pacing 
the  poop  at  his  side,  slipped  an  arm  into  one  of  his.  He 
shivered  a  little. 

"  Aren't  you  feeling  all  right?  "  she  asked  anxiously. 
"  You're  not  going  to  have  fever,  are  you?  " 

"  No,  lass,"  he  answered  at  once.  "  Not  much!  I'm  all 
right,  of  course.  It  would  never  do  for  me  to  fall  sick  now, 
would  it?  " 

"  It  would  be  the  last  straw!  "  she  agreed,  and  shivered 
also.  For  she  was  counting  on  him  in  case  the  worst  should 
come  to  the  worst. 


AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  39 

"  I  don't  know  what  I'd  do  without  you,  Rube,"  she  said. 
And  the  big  Englishman  blushed  like  any  boy  as  she  peered 
up  into  his  face.  "  You're  the  only  real  friend  I  have  in  the 
world.  If  it  weren't  for  you  —  I'd  be  quite  desperate;  I'm 
so  unhappy  here  now." 

Reuben  Yoxall  pressed  the  arm  that  lay  within  his,  and 
gulped.  "  Then  why  won't  you  come  away  out  of  it, 
Sallie?  "  he  asked  in  a  husky  voice  he  could  scarcely  con- 
trol. "  It  wouldn't  be  so  very  difficult  —  if  Captain  Dove 
just  manages  to  keep  the  men  in  hand  till  we  make  some 
port.  And  we  must  call  somewhere  soon,  for  we're  short  of 
coal. 

"  I  have  some  money  laid  by  —  I'll  work  harder  than  ever 
for  you.  There's  a  snug  little  farm  in  Cumberland  that  one 
of  these  days  will  be  mine,  and  till  then  the  old  folk  would 
make  you  and  me  more  than  welcome  there."  He  was 
speaking  very  quickly,  bent  on  making  the  most  of  that 
unusual  opportunity. 

"  I'm  not  much  of  a  man,  I  know,"  he  went  on,  "  but  — 
such  as  I  am,  I'm  yours.  And  I'll  always  be  yours,  to  do 
whatever  you  like  with.  You  might  come  to  care  more  for 
me,  Sallie,  if  you  knew  me  better.  Will  you  not  try?  Just 
give  me  the  chance/and  I'll  soon  have  you  safely  out  of  the 
Old  Man's  clutches.  But  —  so  long  as  you  insist  on 
sticking  to  him,  I  can't  do  any  more  for  you  than  I'm 
doing." 

Her  eyes  grew  dim  as  she  thought  of  the  dog-like  devo- 
tion which  he  had  shown  her,  although  she  had  so  often  told 
him  that  she  could  never  repay  it  as  he  would  have 
liked. 

"  I  wish  I  could,  Rube,"  she  assured  him  again,  "  but  — 
I  can't.  I'm  not  ungrateful,  and  I  hate  to  hurt  you,  but  — 


40  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

I  just  can't.    And  you  wouldn't  want  me  to  sell  myself  - 
even  for  a  home  and  a  husband,  would  you,  Rube?    I'll 
never  marry   anyone.     Jasper   Slyne  says  that  Captain 
Dove's  going  to  give  me  to  him  —  but  he  doesn't  know.  .  .  . 
And  —  I'm  not  afraid." 

Reuben  Yoxall  sighed,  very  softly.  But  she  heard,  and 
her  own  heart  grew  heavier.  Life  had  become  so  difficult, 
and  there  was  still  so  much  to  be  done,  so  many  troubles  to 
think  about,  while  she  did  not  even  know  yet  what  Captain 
Dove  was  going  to  do  next. 

She  had  just  finished  telling  Yoxall  about  the  man  in  the 
scarlet  mask  and  what  she  had  promised  to  do  for  him, 
when  sounds  of  stealthy  bustle  from  forward  told  her  that 
the  mutineers  were  once  more  mustering  on  deck.  She 
called  down  to  Captain  Dove,  and  he  shortly  came  up  from 
the  saloon,  followed  by  Jasper  Slyne  in  a  neutral-tinted, 
workmanlike  semi-uniform,  at  whose  belt  hung  a  heavy- 
calibre  Colt  revolver. 

Under  the  sharp  spur  of  necessity,  Captain  Dove  appeared 
to  have  quite  overcome  the  physical  weakness  by  which 
he  had  been  oppressed.  He  stepped  briskly  to  the  stair- 
head rail  and  thence  looked  down  on  the  shadowy,  moving 
mass  of  armed  men  who  had  by  that  time  gathered  at  the 
after-hatch  again.  Aware  of  his  presence,  they  ceased  to 
shuffle  about.  A  tense  silence  ensued,  and  Captain  Dove 
cleared  his  throat. 

"  Are  all  hands  aft?  "  he  asked  sharply,  and  "  Ay,  ay, 
sir,"  a  voice  answered.  "  All  hands  but  the  engine-room 
crew.  D'ye  want  them  too?  " 

"  I  do  not,"  he  declared,  and  Sallie  felt  dumbly  thankful 
that  the  engineers  and  their  underlings  were  still,  appar- 
ently, loyal  to  him. 


AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  41 

"  Where's  Mr.  Hobson  —  and  the  third  mate?  "  he  de- 
manded, and,  "  Here,"  answered  simultaneously  two  other 
very  sullen,  suspicious  voices. 

"  Listen,  then,  all  of  you,"  ordered  Captain  Dove,  bris- 
tling in  the  dark  at  that  traitorous  pair,  and,  raising  his 
voice  again,  "  I've  got  a  fine  plum  ripe  for  your  picking  to- 
night, lads!  "  cried  he  at  his  heartiest.  "  There's  a  caravan 
camped  ashore  here,  on  its  way  to  the  Rio  de  Oro,  with  close 
on  a  hundred  camel-loads  of  such  things  as  silk  and  ivory 
—  and  jewels  —  and  gold  —  and  girls.  I  got  a  word  of  it 
from  a  friend  of  mine  at  the  Rio  when  we  were  in  there, 
and  —  now's  our  chance !  You  can  see  the  flare  of  the 
camp-fires  on  the  sky  beyond  the  beach.  I've  been  in 
here  before  and  I  know  the  place.  If  you  follow  me 
now  as  you've  followed  me  in  the  past,  I'll  guarantee 
that  you'll  open  your  eyes  at  what's  waiting  for  you 
ashore." 

Slyne,  safe  in  the  background,  listening,  laughed  fur- 
tively to  himself. 

"  But  —  if  you're  going  back  on  me  now,  I  give  it  up. 
Strike  a  light  and  put  a  bullet  through  me  right  away,  if 
you  feel  like  that.  I've  only  one  hand  —  I  won't  lift  even 
that  against  you.  And  my  share  of  what  little  money  there 
is  on  board  you  can  divide  among  you." 

A  general  murmur  of  approval  greeted  this  blatant 
speech.  And  not  even  the  two  malcontent  mates  could  pick 
any  hole  in  that  proposal.  A  faint  crimson  glow  amid  the 
darkness  beyond  the  surf  on  the  shore  served  to  corroborate 
his  statement  in  part.  That  he  meant  to  accompany  them 
was  his  strongest  guarantee  of  good  faith.  They  were  evi- 
dently ready  and  willing,  for  such  a  prospect  as  he  had  held 
out  to  them,  to  follow  him  wherever  he  liked  to  lead  them. 


42  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

The  two  mates  began  to  tell  the  men  off  to  the  boats  and 
get  these  swung  outboard.  A  temporary  atmosphere  of 
peace  and  good-will  prevailed. 

Captain  Dove  turned  to  Reuben  Yoxall.  "  You'll  stay 
on  board,"  he  whispered  very  brusquely,  "  in  charge  of  the 
ship.  I'll  tell  the  chief  engineer  to  lend  you  two  or  three 
men,  and  you'll  see  to  it  that  they  don't  lay  their  hands  on 
any  more  guns. 

"  You'll  stick  by  me,"  he  told  Slyne,  in  the  background, 
and  Slyne  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  impatiently  as  the 
old  man  passed  on  to  where  Sallie  was  waiting  to  hear  what 
her  part  was  to  be.  She  did  not  know  in  the  least  what  to 
make  j)f  his  newly-declared  intentions. 

"  Am  I  to  go  with  you?  "  she  asked  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment.  And  Captain  Dove  stared  at  her. 

"  No,  you  are  not,"  he  declared  emphatically.  "  D'you 
want  to  be  shot  —  or  kidnapped  —  or  what !  Get  away 
down  below,  girl,  and  stay  there  till  I  come  aboard  again. 
You  must  be  mad!  " 

She  turned  obediently  toward  the  companion-hatch,  and 
Stopped  there.  He  went  forward  then,  the  men  making  way 
for  him  readily,  and  disappeared  into  the  engine-room. 
When  he  climbed  carefully  back  on  deck  through  the 
fiddley-hatch  in  the  skylight,  he  found  all  the  boats  afloat 
and  only  one  boat's  crew  remaining  on  board,  under  charge 
of  the  second  mate,  Hobson,  with  the  evident  aim  of  ma- 
king sure  that  he  did  not  somehow  give  them  the  slip  or 
otherwise  take  any  advantage  of  them.  In  response  to  a 
shout  from  him,  Jasper  Slyne  went  jauntily  forward,  and, 
with  commendable  promptitude,  let  himself  down  the  falls 
overside.  One  of  these,  unhooked,  served  Captain  Dove 
for  a  sling,  and  he  was  soon  seated  at  the  boat's  tiller.  The 


AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  43 

men  followed  swiftly,  and  the  second  mate  went  last,  no 
doubt  satisfied  by  then  that  all  would  be  well. 

"  Give  way,  lads!  "  cried  Captain  Dove  to  those  at  the 
sweeps,  "  and  we'll  show  the  others  the  short  road  ashore. 
I'm  in  no  end  of  a  hurry  to  get  what's  coming  to  me  from 
that  caravan." 

Midnight  lay  very  black  on  the  bight  where  the  Olive 
Branch  was  riding  easily  to  a  single  anchor;  as  the  dark 
hours  sped  they  seemed  to  grow  always  darker.  The  boats 
which  had  just  put  off  from  her  were  almost  instantly  hidden 
from  Sallie's  sight.  She  stepped  quietly  out  on  deck  beside 
Reuben  Yoxall. 

"  Rube,"  she  said  in  a  low,  determined  voice.  "  I  must  be 
going  too,  now.  Will  you  help  me  to  get  out  the  canvas 
boat?  " 

He  stared  at  her,  as  Captain  Dove  had  done,  and  swal- 
lowed down  a  lump  in  his  throat. 

"  It's  madness  now!  "  he  declared.  "  But  —  I'll  go  my- 
self. You  must  stay  where  you  are.  It  would  be  worse  than 
madness  for  you  —  " 

She  was  smiling  very  gratefully  up  into  his  unhappy, 
stubborn  face. 

"  We'll  go  together,  Rube,"  she  said,  "  or  not  at  all. 
And,  even  although  it  does  seem  hopeless,  I  know  you 
wouldn't  want  me  to  break  my  promise.  So  you  get  the 
boat  launched  while  I  go  and  tell  Mr.  Brasse." 

She  turned  and  ran  lightly  down  the  steps  and  along  the 
main-deck,  leaving  the  mate,  sorely  perturbed  and  uncer- 
tain, to  carry  out  her  instructions  or  not,  as  he  chose.  As 
she  reached  the  engine-room  skylight  on  the  quarter-deck 
an  unobtrusive  shadow  emerged  from  it  and  would  have 
passed  her  with  a  nod  on  its  way  toward  the  bridge. 


44  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  Mr.  Brasse,"  she  said  appealingly,  and  it  halted  to  peer 
at  her  through  a  single  eye-glass,  after  touching  its  cap  in  a 
very  precise  salute. 

"  Miss  Sallie?  "  it  answered  in  a  surprised  but  courteous 
tone  which  told  that  the  speaker  was,  or  had  once  been,  a 
gentleman. 

"  I'm  going  ashore,"  she  went  on  in  a  hurry,  "  and  Mr. 
Yoxall  is  going  with  me.  Will  you  look  after  things  for  him 
until  we  get  back?  Every  one  else  has  gone  already." 

"  I  have  Captain  Dove's  orders  to  be  on  the  bridge  —  for 
another  purpose,"  the  chief  engineer  of  the  Olive  Branch  in- 
formed her,  "  and  I'll  do  my  best,  of  course,  to  make  sure 
that  nothing  goes  wrong  in  the  chief  mate's  absence.  But 
—  is  it  safe  for  you  —  " 

"  Quite  safe,"  she  assured  him.  "  And  —  Mr.  Brasse, 
if  I  bring  —  I'm  going  ashore  to  try  to  save  a  man  —  a 
white  man  the  Arabs  mean  to  murder  to-night.  If  I  manage 
to  bring  him  on  board,  will  you  help  me  to  hide  him?  —  so 
that  Captain  Dove  won't  know?  " 

The  chief  engineer  of  the  Olive  Branch  was  obviously 
much  perplexed.  But  he  was  also  obviously  much  better 
disposed  toward  Sallie  than  to  Captain  Dove. 

"  If  he's  willing  to  work  in  the  stokehold,"  he  stipulated, 
"  I  don't  think  Captain  Dove  would  ever  know  he's  on 
board  the  ship.  And  then  he  can  slip  ashore  at  the  first  safe 
port  we  manage  to  make." 

Sallie's  lower  lip  trembled  a  little.  She  did  not  quite 
know  how  to  thank  the  punctilious  engineer  who  had 
proved  himself  such  a  friend  in  need.  And  time  was  pass- 
ing. 

"  You're  always  very  good  to  me,  Mr.  Brasse,"  she  said 
timidly. 


AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  45 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  returned  with  formal  politeness,  and, 
having  saluted  again,  went  on  his  own  way  toward  the 
bridge. 

When  Sallie  got  back  to  the  poop  she  found  Reuben 
Yoxall  awaiting  her  there  and  the  canvas  boat  already 
afloat.  The  mate,  however  slow-witted,  was  smart  enough 
in  all  his  movements  once  he  had  made  up  his  mind.  He 
helped  her  over  the  side  without  any  more  words,  and  was 
soon  driving  the  light  boat  along  a  straight,  swift  line  for 
the  landing-place. 

Sallie's  sense  of  direction  enabled  her  to  show  him  that, 
and  also  brought  them  safely  across  the  bar  into  the  lagoon 
where  the  other  boats  from  the  Olive  Branch  were  lying 
empty,  afloat.  The  third  mate  and  some  of  the  men  had 
seemingly  been  left  there  in  charge  of  them.  Sallie  caught 
sight  of  the  former's  sullen,  furtive  features  in  the  sudden, 
foolhardy  light  of  a  match  he  was  holding  over  the  pipe 
whose  bowl  his  hands  hid.  And  there  were  shapes  moving 
about  him.  She  laid  a  shaky  hand  on  one  of  YoxalPs,  and 
the  oar  in  his,  dipping,  shifted  their  course. 

The  boom  of  the  breakers,  behind  them,  killed  all  other 
sound.  But  she  lifted  a  finger  to  her  lips,  and  he  proved 
sufficiently  quick-witted  then.  Between  them,  they  beached 
their  own  boat  in  the  dark  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  nearer 
the  camp,  and  waded  ashore  with  it,  and  left  it  there,  up- 
side down  on  the  sand. 

The  same  magnetic  instinct  which  had  brought  them 
safely  across  the  bar  to  the  beach  led  her  almost  straight  to 
the  mouth  of  the  narrow  ravine  through  which  Captain 
Dove  and  she  had  reached  the  red-haired  Emir's  camp. 
And  Reuben  Yoxall  followed  her,  blind,  through  the  night. 

"  It  was  here  that  he  was  to  meet  us,"  she  whispered 


46  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

breathlessly,  her  heart  in  her  mouth.  They  had  met  no  one 
at  all  by  the  way,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  there. 

Yoxall  scowled  about  him,  unseeingly,  and  bit  his  lip, 
in  helpless  dissatisfaction  with  everybody  and  everything. 
Then  he  sniffed  inquiringly,  and  in  an  instant  all  his  relaxed 
muscles  were  taut  again.  A  faint  whiff  of  tobacco-smoke 
had  reached  his  nostrils  on  the  hot,  humid  night-air. 

Sallie  was  aware  of  it  too,  and  had  snatched  at  his  hand, 
to  draw  him  on  tiptoe  toward  the  base  of  the  great  rock- 
wall  that  cropped  up  out  of  the  sand  there.  They  reached 
its  shelter  unseen  and  unheard  as  a  harsh,  suppressed  voice 
spoke  from  round  the  corner,  within  the  velvet-black  mouth 
of  the  gorge.  It  was  Hobson's,  the  second  mate's. 

"  Put  out  that  pipe,"  it  ordered  furiously,  and  was  an- 
swered by  a  low,  mocking  laugh.  There  followed  the  sound 
of  a  smashing  blow,  and  a  short,  sharp  struggle  that  was 
interrupted  by  a  muffled  shout  from  high  overhead.  "  Hob- 
son  ahoy! " 

It  was  Captain  Dove  who  had  called  cautiously  down 
from  the  summit  of  the  ridge  at  one  side  of  the  ravine,  and 
the  second  mate  panted  a  quick  response. 

"  You  can  get  a  move  on  now,"  cried  the  old  man  above 
the  roar  of  the  surf.  "  The  others  will  all  be  in  position  by 
the  time  you've  pushed  through.  Open  fire  as  soon  as  ever 
you  sight  the  camp.  D'ye  hear?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  answered  the  second  mate,  the  habit  of 
years  still  strong  upon  him,  and  went  on  to  issue  his  own 
commands  in  the  curt  growl  of  custom.  The  fellow  who  had 
lighted  a  pipe  in  defiance  of  him  was  apparently  quelled. 

It  seemed  that  he  meant  to  leave  some  of  his  men  to  guard 
that  end  of  the  gorge.  "  And  you'll  keep  a  sharp  look-out," 
he  instructed  them  very  threateningly.  "  If  we're  trapped 


AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  47 

in  this  damned  tunnel  there  will  be  all  hell  to  pay  —  and 
you'll  pay  it! 

"  Move  on  now,  in  front.  Feel  your  way  with  your  bay- 
onets. And  don't  fire  so  long  as  cold  steel  will  serve." 

The  two  listeners  could  hear  the  dull  clink  and  shufHe  of 
the  advance.  That  soon  died  away.  The  men  who  had 
been  left  behind  began  a  low,  intermittent  grumbling  over 
their  own  hard  lot;  they  did  not  believe  for  a  moment  that 
their  comrades  would  share  the  loot  fairly  with  them.  Hob- 
son  was  a  coward  at  heart,  said  one,  or  why,  otherwise, 
would  they  be  wasting  their  time  there?  They  were  all 
smoking  by  then. 

"  The  whole  thing's  a  cinch,"  declared  the  same  speaker 
more  loudly.  "  I'll  swear  there  isn't  an  Arab  outside  the 
ring-fence  we've  drawn  round  'em,  and  —  I'm  going  on 
along  inside,  to  get  what  I  want  for  myself.  I'm  not  afraid 
of  Mr.  Blasted  Hobson!  " 

He  came  out  into  the  open  and  stood  for  a  moment  or  two 
listening  intently,  within  a  few  feet  of  where  Sallie  and 
Reuben  Yoxall  were  crouching,  their  backs  toward  him. 
But  the  ceaseless  crash  and  rumble  of  the  breakers  was  all 
there  was  to  be  heard. 

He  turned  back,  and  tramped  off  into  the  gorge,  with  two 
of  the  others  for  company.  But  three  remained. 

Sallie  felt  Reuben  Yoxall  tug  at  her  sleeve  and  began  to 
move  softly  away  after  him.  From  somewhere  in  the  dis- 
tance a  shot  suddenly  rang  out.  More  followed,  in  quick 
succession.  The  irregular  crackle  of  independent  rifle-fire 
soon  made  it  clear  that  the  concentric  attack  on  the  camp 
had  begun.  The  three  men  in  the  mouth  of  the  gorge  were 
shouting  excitedly  to  each  other. 

"  We  must  get  away  back  on  board  —  at  once,"  Yoxall 


48  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

whispered  peremptorily.  "  We  can't  search  the  whole 
Sahara,  blind,  for  a  man  you  wouldn't  even  know  if  you 
saw  him.  You've  done  all  you  can,  Sallie.  You've  kept 
your  promise.  Come  away,  now." 

She  suppressed  a  hopeless  sob  with  an  effort.  It  seemed 
so  inexpressibly  hard  that  they  should  have  gained  nothing 
at  all  by  the  grave  risk  they  were  still  running.  But  hope 
had  failed  her,  too. 

"  We'll  wait  by  the  boat  —  just  for  a  little,  Rube,"  she 
begged  none  the  less.  "  It  may  be  that  —  " 

"  Come  on,  then,"  he  urged  again.  "  Let's  get  to  the 
boat,  —  and,  if  you'll  stay  by  it,  I'll  scout  round  a  bit  before 
we  put  off  again." 

"  More  this  way,"  she  directed  him,  as  he  moved  on, 
impatient  to  get  her  back  into  at  least  comparative  safety. 
And,  under  her  guidance,  they  soon  reached  the  rough, 
trodden  path  that  led  toward  the  lagoon  where  the  boats 
were  lying. 

A  hundred  yards  further  on,  he  stopped  her  abruptly, 
and  dropped  to  the  ground,  to  set  an  anxious  ear  to  it.  He 
was  up  again  in  a  second  or  two. 

"  There's  a  whole  army  coming  this  way,"  he  declared 
in  a  tone  of  stricken  dismay,  "  and  horses  with  them  too! 

"  We  must  make  for  the  soft  sand  and  lie  down  and  bur- 
row as  deep  as  we  can." 

He  turned  toward  the  sea,  one  arm  about  her,  and  almost 
carried  her  across  the  deep,  undulating  drifts  that  clutched 
at  her  ankles  like  a  dry  quicksand.  His  own  strength 
soon  failed  against  them.  He  stumbled  and  fell  on  his  face 
at  the  brink  of  a  slope,  and  slipped  on  into  its  hollow  and 
lay  there,  quite  still.  But  he  had  let  go  his  hold  of  her,  so 
that  she  had  not  lost  her  feet:  and  she  was  soon  cowering 


AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  49 

beside  him,  face  downward  also.  They  had  both  heard  the 
nearness  of  those  other  feet  —  very  many  of  them  —  which 
had  seemingly  crossed  from  the  pathway  to  intercept  them. 

A  hoarse  murmur  was  audible  behind  them.  Some  one 
had  ordered  a  halt.  They  could  hear  the  heavy  breathing 
of  men  and  the  restless  movements  of  horses  hock-deep  in 
the  drift.  They  could  almost  see  the  ghostly  shapes  of  the 
white-cloaked  riders,  but  only  the  leader's  horse  was  even 
very  dimly  discernible  —  because  it  also  was  white.  Its 
bridle  was  jingling  a  little,  too,  as  none  of  the  others' 
were. 

He  uttered  a  short,  sharp  order,  and  Sallie  set  her  teeth 
to  choke  back  the  cry  of  despair  which  had  almost  escaped 
her.  For  it  was  the  Emir  himself  into  whose  hands  they 
seemed  fated  to  fall,  and  his  tone  told  the  temper 
he  was  in. 

From  among  his  horsemen  a  number  of  men  on  foot 
seemed  to  have  emerged,  and  he  was  speaking  to  one  of 
them,  in  English. 

"  Are  you  there,  my  fine  doctor?  "  he  asked  evilly,  and 
leaned  from  his  saddle  as  though  he  could  see  through  the 
dark. 

"  I'm  here,"  a  level  voice  replied,  and  Sallie  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands  in  helpless  horror. 

"  You're  here,  you  say!  And  here  you'll  stay,  say  I  — 
as  was  promised  you,"  hissed  the  Emir.  "  'Tis  not  right 
that  the  likes  of  you  should  be  still  drawing  breath  —  and 
her-you-know-of  already  cold.  You're  quick  yet,  and  she's 
dead,  my  fine  doctor  —  but  yours  is  the  funeral  that 
comes  first.  And  you're  standing  over  your  own  grave 
now  —  hell's  waiting  for  you  beneath  your  feet.  Stand  to 
one  side,  and  let  my  men  dig  down  to  it." 


50  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

There  was  more  movement  about  him,  and  then  a  quick 
shovelling  of  sand. 

"  If  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  I'll  tell  them  to  help  you  in 
head  first,"  said  the  Emir  venomously.  But  the  man  in  the 
scarlet  mask  answered  nothing  at  all  to  that. 


CHAPTER  VI 

HOBSON'S  CHOICE 

SALLIE  had  made  an  effort  to  rise,  but  her  knees  had 
utterly  failed  her,  and  Reuben  Yoxall  had  laid  a 
heavy  arm  across  her  shoulders.  The  ceaseless  up- 
roar from  within  the  camp  had  suddenly  increased. 

The  Emir  was  standing  up  in  his  stirrups  to  listen.  He 
sank  into  his  saddle  again,  and  issued  some  further  orders, 
in  Arabic.  Most  of  his  force  on  foot  in  the  rear  made  off 
at  a  staggering  run.  The  horses  of  his  body-guard  began  to 
paw  and  curvet  to  free  their  feet  as  the  loose  reins  tightened 
on  their  necks. 

"  I  must  be  going  now,  my  fine  doctor,"  said  the  Emir 
most  reluctantly,  "  but  I'll  leave  you  company  enough  for 
the  few  minutes  you've  left,  although  you're  but  a  dumb 
dog! 

"  And  you'll  maybe  think  of  me  when  you're  swallow- 
ing your  first  mouthful.  Till  then  you  can  mourn  her-you- 
know-of." 

The  white  horse  leaped  and  plunged  as  though  he  had 
rowelled  it  cruelly,  and  then  he  was  gone  at  a  breakneck 
gallop,  the  white  shadows  that  were  his  body-guard  hard 
at  his  heels,  with  lances  free. 

The  grave-diggers  paused  in  their  digging  as  he  disap- 
peared. A  dozen  or  more  tongues  broke  into  eager  talking, 
and  a  fiendish,  squealing  laugh  out-shrilled  them  all.  Sallie, 


52  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

with  her  face  between  her  elbows,  had  thrust  a  finger  into 
each  ear,  and  her  eyes  were  tightly  closed. 

She  opened  them  a  little,  involuntarily,  as  the  heavy  arm 
that  had  been  holding  her  down  was  taken  away.  Reuben 
Yoxall  nudged  her,  and  she  looked  round,  with  infinite 
caution. 

A  blue-light,  like  a  corpse-candle  in  the  distance,  had 
suddenly  flared  up  on  the  near  ridge  above  the  ravine  that 
led  to  the  camp.  And  in  its  ghastly  glow  an  unforgettable 
picture  was  vaguely  visible  for  a  moment  or  two. 

The  last  of  the  Emir's  mounted  men  were  streaming  after 
him  into  the  gorge,  between  whose  open  jaws  lay  three 
prone,  trampled  bodies,  two  very  still,  the  other  writhing 
round  and  round  on  the  axis  of  a  long  lance. 

The  breakers  on  the  beach  beyond  the  intervening  sand- 
waves  reared  up,  and  combed,  and  fell  in  blue-green  foam. 
Outside  them  a  black  sea  heaved  ceaselessly. 

Inland,  a  segment  of  the  circular  rock-rampart  which 
enclosed  the  camp  loomed  up  above  the  endless,  empty 
desert,  and  on  its  summit  showed  a  number  of  white- 
clad,  crouching  figures  with  rifles,  all  firing  inward  and 
downward  on  the  pandemonium  raging  below. 

Only  a  few  yards  away  from  where  the  two  helpless 
onlookers  lay  the  man  in  the  scarlet  mask  was  standing, 
his  hands  behind  him,  between  the  two  big  negroes  Sallie 
had  seen  in  the  Emir's  tent.  And,  grouped  about  them, 
staring  at  the  blue-light  with  wide  eyes,  were  a  dozen  or 
more  armed  Arabs.  Two  other  negroes,  knee-deep  in  a 
hole,  were  leaning  on  their  spades. 

Farther  off,  beside  the  lagoon  where  the  boats  were 
lying,  the  third  mate^and  his  men  were  making  the  best 
fight  they  might  for  their  lives  against  overwhelming  odds. 


HOBSON'S  CHOICE  53 

More  than  one  of  them  had  already  fallen  before  the  blue- 
light  guttered  away  and  that  inferno  was  blotted  out. 

But  the  renewed  darkness  lasted  only  for  a  few  seconds 
before  the  search-light  on  the  bridge  of  the  Olive  Branch  in 
the  bight  answered  the  signal  from  the  ridge,  cutting 
through  the  inky  night  a  long,  white,  fan-like  swathe  which 
swept  the  coast  in  sections  until  it  finally  found  its  objective 
and  settled  there. 

The  group  about  the  half-dug  grave  were  at  first  almost 
paralysed  with  fear  of  that  phenomenon.  The  two  black 
eunuchs  seized  their  prisoner  and  pulled  him  to  the  ground, 
the  men  of  the  guard  took  cover,  with  rifles  ready,  the 
grave-diggers  dropped  incontinently  into  the  grave  and 
cowered  there. 

But  when,  after  its  first  gyrations,  it  steadied  on  to  the 
ridge  round  the  camp,  leaving  them  quite  unharmed  and 
outside  its  focus,  they  fell  to  talking  again,  in  awed  whis- 
pers, while  they  gazed  blinkingly  at  its  effect,  all  but  the 
two  who  were  busy  digging  again. 

Yoxall  plucked  at  Sallie's  sleeve.  She  crept  after  him, 
and  by  very  slow  degrees  they  got  safely  round  in  rear 
of  the  burial-party. 

"  Wait  here,"  he  breathed  in  her  ear,  and  left  her  behind 
a  low  swell  of  the  sand. 

She  crawled  to  its  brink.  He  was  wriggling  back  toward 
the  shapes  silhouetted  against  the  dusky  light.  She 
clenched  both  her  hands  tightly  over  her  lips  as  he  reached 
the  one  that  was  lying  motionless,  a  knee  upraised,  quite 
close  to  the  others'  heels. 

The  upraised  knee  slowly  straightened.  One  of  the  two 
negro  guards  looked  round  and  kicked  at  their  prisoner. 
The  other  spoke,  and  a  squealing  laugh  reached  her  ears. 


54  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Each  instant  seemed  an  eternity  until  she  thought  she 
could  see  Reuben  Yoxall  turn  and  begin  to  worm  his  way 
back  toward  her,  with  another  stealthy  shadow  following 
him. 

He  reached  her  side. 

"  Up  and  run  for  it  now,  lass,"  he  panted,  and  stooped 
and  lifted  her  to  her  feet.  "  They  can't  hear  us  from  there. 
For  God's  sake,  don't  give  way  now." 

But  she  was  quite  limp  and  strengthless.  The  strain 
had  been  too  much  for  her.  He  picked  her  up  in  his  arms 
and  made  for  their  boat  at  an  elephantine  trot,  the  stranger 
struggling  along  after  him  through  the  sand.  She  was 
sobbing  brokenly  when  he  set  her  down  beside  it. 

A  piercing  scream  rang  out  across  the  sand  from  the 
near  distance,  above  all  the  other  turmoil.  But  he  had 
already  got  the  boat  turned  right  side  up  and  the  man  in 
the  mask  helped  him  to  set  it  afloat.  He  splashed  ashore 
again  and  carried  Sallie  out  to  it,  settling  her  very  ten- 
derly in  its  stern. 

"  We're  all  right  now,"  he  told  her,  and  she  whispered 
back,  "  Oh!  I'm  so  ashamed  of  myself,  Rube,  — -I  nearly 
fainted!  " 

The  other  man  sat  down  in  the  bow  and  the  mate  stepped 
carefully  in.  A  few  minutes  later  they  were  beyond  the 
bar,  safe  enough  from  pursuit. 

"  I'll  take  an  oar  now,"  the  stranger  suggested,  speaking 
for  the  first  time,  and  in  a  tone  which  showed  how  he  had 
suffered.  Yoxall  passed  him  one  willingly.  He  had  over- 
taxed his  own  strength  at  last.  He  was  almost  exhausted 
before  they  at  length  ran  alongside  the  Olive  Branch,  skirt- 
ing the  arc  of  the  search-light.  He  could  scarcely  scramble 
up  the  rope  he  had  left  hanging  from  the  poop. 


HOBSON'S  CHOICE  55 

But  with  the  other  man's  help  he  managed  to  get  the 
boat  aboard  and  stowed  away  again.  And  they  returned 
on  deck  together. 

"  What  do  you  think  has  happened  ashore,  Rube?  " 
asked  Sallie  very  anxiously  as  he  reappeared  from 
below. 

"  I  wish  I  knew,  lass,"  he  answered,  no  less  concerned. 
"  I'll  go  and  find  out  what  Brasse  — 

"  I  must  see  Mr.  Brasse  too,"  she  told  him.  "  He's 
promised  —  She  turned  to  the  stranger. 

"  The  stokehold's  the  only  place  on  board  where  you 
will  be  safe,"  she  said,  somewhat  uncertainly.  "  Will  you 
mind  very  much  —  " 

"  I'll  shovel  coal  most  contentedly,"  he  assured  her  at 
once,  in  a  tone  that  was  still  very  tremulous.  "  And  —  how 
to  show  my  gratitude  to  both  of  you,  for  the  chance,  I  —  I 
can't  —  " 

His  voice  broke.  He  could  say  no  more.  His  silent 
self-control  had  been  too  sorely  tried. 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  Reuben  Yoxall  uncomfortably. 
And  Sallie  clutched  at  the  big,  stolid  Englishman's  arm 
again  and  clung  to  it  as  they  went  forward,  along  the  dark 
empty  decks. 

On  the  bridge,  in  the  dim,  vaporous  light  at  one  side  of 
the  white  hood  within  which  the  carbon  was  burning,  they 
caught  sight  of  the  chief  engineer,  a  raggedly  disreputable- 
looking  individual,  with  features  haggard,  refined  to  the 
pitch  of  foolishness,  rendered  still  more  fatuous  by  the  single 
eye-glass  he  always  affected  and  which  he  had  worn  even 
while,  when  he  had  first  joined  the  ship,  he  himself  had 
worked  in  the  stokehold  as  one  of  the  black  gang  who  feed 
the  furnaces.  Brasse  was  one  of  a  number  of  human  enig- 


56  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

mas  who  had  followed  Captain  Dove's  flag  and  fortunes  for 
uncounted  years,  and  Sallie  had  long  ago  heard  the  common 
report  that  there  was  a  hangman's  rope  waiting  for  him 
somewhere  ashore. 

He  looked  round  as  she  approached,  and  his  perspiring 
face  expressed  heartfelt  relief. 

"  Just  a  moment,"  he  begged,  and  once  more  applied 
an  eye  to  the  telescope  trained  parallel  with  the  light. 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  exclaimed,  and  turned  a  tap  on  a 
tube  leading  into  the  hood.  In  the  instant  darkness  which 
ensued,  the  flare  of  another  blue-light  on  the  ridge  above 
the  ravine  ashore  produced  a  very  weird  and  startling 
effect. 

The  engineer  turned  to  Sallie. 

"  Gad!  "  said  he,  hurriedly,  "  but  I'm  glad  to  see  you 
safe  back  on  board.  I  was  afraid  that  —  Did  you  get  your 
man?  " 

"  Yes,  we  brought  him  off.  He's  here,  behind,"  Sallie 
answered  briefly,  since  there  was  so  little  time  to  explain 
anything.  "  But  —  what  has  gone  wrong  ashore,  Mr. 
Brasse?  " 

"  That  second  signal  should  mean  that  Captain  Dove 
has  been  quite  successful,"  said  Brasse,  a  bitter  note  in 
his  voice.  "  I  expect  he'll  be  back  on  board  presently, 
too.  So  I'll  get  away  below  now  and  send  some  of  my  men 
on  deck  to  help.  I'll  have  to  see  your  friend  fixed  up  before 
the  boats  arrive.  Have  you  explained  to  him  — 

"  Yes,  he  understands,"  she  assured  him,  and,  as  the 
stranger  followed  the  engineer  silently  from  the  bridge, 
she  spoke  to  Yoxall  again.  He  was  leaning  over  the  rail 
behind  her,  gazing  over  the  side. 

"  What  do  you   think  has  really  happened,   Rube?  " 


HOBSON'S  CHOICE  57 

she  once  more  asked  him.    "  It  didn't  look  as  if  our  men 
were  winning." 

"  I  wish  I  knew,  lass/'  he  repeated  dully.  "But  — 
we'll  know  before  very  long,  and  —  we  can  do  nothing  to 
help.  So  you'd  better  be  off  aft  again,  now,  and  seek  some 
rest.  I  must  see  everything  shipshape  about  the  decks." 

Sallie  went  slowly  back  to  the  poop,  but  she  could  not 
rest  amid  so  many  anxieties.  It  was  not  very  long,  however, 
before  the  regular  plash  of  oars  reached  her  ears  where  she 
was  standing  within  the  companion-hatch,  under  cover 
from  the  dew  that  the  awning  dripped.  And  in  another 
minute  Captain  Dove's  harsh  voice  hailed  the  ship. 

"  Show  a  light  at  the  gangway,  quick!  "  the  old  man 
shouted.  "  Muster  all  hands  at  the  rails  —  and  don't 
let  a  single  son-of-a-gun  on  board  you  till  I  give  the  word." 

These  peremptory  orders  were  promptly  obeyed.  Reu- 
ben Yoxall  himself  came  running  to  the  break  of  the  poop 
with  a  deck-lamp  and  let  the  Jacob 's-ladder  down.  But 
Captain  Dove's  boat  was  well  ahead  of  the  others,  although 
for  all  company  in  it  he  had  only  Jasper  Slyne  and  three 
white-robed  Arabs,  who,  as  they  ran  alongside,  shipped 
their  oars  smartly  to  clutch  at  the  ladder,  up  which  Cap- 
tain Dove  scrambled  swaying,  with  only  one  hand  at  his 
service.  Slyne  followed  him,  hot,  dusty,  dishevelled,  still 
bleeding  from  a  deep  cut  in  one  cheek,  and  then  the  Arabs, 
the  Emir  El  Farish  first,  and  the  last  with  a  turn  of  the 
boat's  painter  about  his  wrist  in  seaman-like  fashion. 

"  Shift  her  forward  now,"  Captain  Dove  commanded, 
"  and  up  with  the  ladder  again." 

Which  also  was  done,  in  a  hurry,  so  that  when  the  other 
boats  arrived  they  had  to  bring-to  under  the  bare  wet  side  of 
the  steamer  wallowing  in  the  swell.  Sallie,  herself  unseen, 


58  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

saw  that  there  were  only  three  or  four  men  in  each,  and  a 
sudden,  sick  understanding  of  Captain  Dove's  successful 
expedient  for  ridding  the  ship  of  the  rest  of  the  mutineers 
flashed  through  her  mind.  But  she  would  not  allow  herself 
to  surmise  what  the  Emir's  visit  might  mean. 

Captain  Dove,  safe  on  board,  surveyed  for  a  space,  in 
silence  and  very  much  at  his  leisure,  the  men  in  the  boats. 
But  not  one  of  them  was  able  or  willing  to  meet  his  malev- 
olent glance.  A  more  cowed,  unhappy,  hang-dog  lot  he 
had  never  seen,  and  he  told  them  so,  at  some  length. 

"  Get  on  to  your  feet,  you,  Hobson,"  he  snapped,  and 
the  second  mate  stood  up  in  his  place,  as  if  with  a  galvanic 
effort  of  will.  Captain  Dove  regarded  him  fixedly  for  some 
moments. 

"  You're  the  worst  that's  left,"  he  said  then,  in  a  steely 
voice,  "  and  —  I  don't  quite  know  what  to  do  with  you. 
I've  asked  Far —  the  Emir  here  if  he'll  have  you  as  a  gift, 
along  with  the  others  I  left  ashore,  but  he  won't.  And 
I  don't* want  you  on  the  Olive  Branch;  there's  no  room  on 
board  for  a  man  like  you  —  you  might  stir  up  another 
mutiny!  Seems  to  me  the  very  best  thing  you  can  do 
for  yourself  now  is  to  jump  right  overboard  before  I  have 
that  boat  swung  and  lay  hands  on  you.  For,  if  you  set 
foot  on  my  ship  again,  I'll  have  you  hove  head-first  into 
one  of  the  furnaces.  D'ye  hear? 

"  But  take  your  choice  —  one  way  or  the  other,  it's 
all  the  same  to  me. 

"  The  rest  of  you  mutinous  swine  can  come  aboard  now. 
You've  had  your  lesson,  I  think,  eh?  Then  stand  by  to 
pick  Mr.  Hobson  up  if  he  follows  you,  and  carry  him  down 
to  the  stokehold. 

"  Let  the  ladder  over  again,  there." 


HOBSON'S  CHOICE  59 

The  doomed  wretch,  staring  wide-eyed  at  Captain  Dove 
in  the  lamplight,  seemed  to  know  that  no  appeal  from 
that  most  monstrous  penalty  of  his  scarcely  less  monstrous 
crime  would  serve  any  purpose  at  all,  and  looked  hopelessly 
about  him  while  the  others  in  the  boat  clambered,  cringing, 
up  the  ship's  side.  He  shuddered  convulsively  as  he  caught 
sight  of  a  stealthy  black  fin  in  the  water,  within  a  few  feet 
of  him.  His  slack,  twisted  lips  were  moving  like  those  of 
a  man  with  paralysis. 

"  Put  —  put  a  bullet  through  me  first,"  he  begged 
piteously,  and  turning  about,  scrambled,  groping,  into  the 
stern-sheets. 

He  stood  there  throughout  an  eternity  of  a  few  seconds, 
head  bent,  shoulders  heaving,  hands  hanging  limp,  and 
then,  "  For  God's  own  sake  —  "  he  cried,  in  a  dreadful, 
whimpering  voice,  that  was  suddenly  stilled  by  a  whip-like 
explosive  crack  as  he  pitched  forward,  headlong,  out  of 
the  boat. 

Sallie  had  darted,  unnoticed,  down  the  steps  from  the 
poop  to  where  Jasper  Slyne  was  standing  in  the  background, 
nonchalantly  looking  on. 

"  Save  him,  Jasper  —  for  my  sake!  "  she  beseeched  of 
him,  who  alone  had  any  influence  with  the  old  man. 

"  I  will  —  if  you'll  promise  to  marry  me,"  he  whispered 
in  answer,  as  if  inspired  to  snatch  at  even  such  a  precarious 
chance  of  placing  her  under  that  obligation  to  him,  and, 
without  waiting  for  any  reply,  he  fired  at  the  black  fin 
beyond  the  boat,  ran  to  the  rail  and  plunged  over  the 
ship's  side.  Captain  Dove  swung  around,  snarling  viciously, 
and  struck  at  him  as  he  passed. 

The  splash  he  made  frightened  the  swarming  sharks 
away  for  a  moment  or  two.  He  came  up  close  beside  Hob- 


60  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

son,  seized  him  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck,  and,  after  a 
desperate  struggle,  succeeded  in  clambering  into  the  boat. 
A  white  streak  seemed  to  leap  from  the  water  and  snapped 
and  missed  the  second  mate's  helpless  heels  by  an  inch 
or  two  as  Slyne,  with  a  final,  frantic  effort,  jerked  him  in- 
board and  fell  backward  over  a  thwart. 

Captain  Dove  stood  glaring  about  him,  speechless. 
Sallie  had  drawn  back,  unseen,  in  breathless  suspense. 
But  the  old  man  said  nothing  at  all,  not  even  when  Slyne 
stepped,  spent  and  dripping,  over  the  rail,  with  Hobson 
close  behind  crying  like  a  child. 

"  I've  no  more  time  to  waste  on  such  tomfoolery,"  said 
the  Emir  then,  angrily,  "  and  no  great  taste  for  it,  either, 
Captain  Dove.  So  give  me  the  girl  now,  and  I'll  be  gone." 

"  Come  below,  for  a  minute,"  returned  Captain  Dove, 
in  a  strangled  voice,  mastering  his  pent  rage  with  a  very 
visible  effort.  "  Come  below  for  a  minute  till  I  send  for 
her. 

"  Mr.  Yoxall,  you'll  let  Mr.  Brasse  know  that  we'll  be 
starting  in  half  an  hour.  Tell  those  men  off  in  two  watches, 
and  send  one  lot  below.  Leave  Da  Costa  in  charge  of 
the  deck  —  you'll  be  rated  as  second  mate,  now,  Da 
Costa,  d'ye  hear?  —  and  turn  in,  yourself,  Mr.  Yoxall, 
till  the  morning  watch." 

"  Ay,    ay,    sir,"   Yoxall    responded   mechanically,    and 
Captain  Dove,  as  he  led  the  way  to  his  own  quarters 
amidships  —  he  had  only  been  berthed  aft,  in  the  poop, 
while  he  had  been  ill  and  the  crew  conspiring  against  him  — 
at  length  looked  round  at  Slyne. 

"  Better  get  into  some  dry  clothes,  quick,"  he  said, 
civilly  enough,  but  in  a  tone  which  betrayed  his  real  temper. 
"  I  want  you  to  go  aft  and  bring  Sallie  along." 


HOBSON'S  CHOICE  61 

When  Slyne  came  aft  again,  a  few  minutes  later,  he  was 
once  more  cool  and  clean  and  spruce  in  white  drill,  with 
a  plaster  over  the  cut  on  his  face.  He  was  also  apparently 
well  pleased  with  himself. 

He  found  Sallie  crouching  within  the  companion-hatch, 
and  she  shrank  still  farther  into  its  shelter  as  he  approached. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  he  asked  in  surprise,  his  greedy 
eyes  searching  her  white  face  in  the  misty  darkness  while 
she  looked  up  at  him  in  speechless  dismay. 

"  Did  you  hear  what  Captain  Dove  said?  "  he  asked, 
and  laughed  exultantly.  "  You  needn't  worry  about  any- 
thing of  that  sort  now,  my  dear.  You've  got  some  one  to 
look  after  you  now,  and  —  it's  all  part  of  his  plan,  don't 
you  understand?  You  must  come  along  with  me,  but  — 
there's  nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  You're  perfectly  safe 
now  —  with  me." 

She  did  not  know  what  to  believe,  but,  since  there  was 
no  help  for  it,  she  followed  him,  without  a  word,  to  the 
doorway  of  the  mid-ship  saloon,  within  which  the  Emir 
and  Captain  Dove  were  amicably  engaged  over  a  black 
bottle. 

"  The  real  potheen! "  El  Parish  was  saying  exultantly, 
a  tumbler  to  his  hook-nose.  "  It's  long  since  I've  had  the 
chance  of  such."  He  looked  round  as  Slyne  stepped  in. 

"  Here,  have  a  sip,  Mr.  Slyne,"  he  said.  "  No,  out  of 
this  glass  of  mine,  if  you  please,  just  to  show  that  it  isn't 
hocussed.  I've  known  Captain  Brown  —  Captain  Dove, 
I  mean  —  long  enough  to  be  extra  careful  in  his  company." 

He  laughed  as  Slyne  took  the  tumbler  from  him  and, 
with  a  covert  nod  to  Captain  Dove,  half  emptied  it  at  a 
draught.  And,  as  Slyne  smacked  his  lips,  "  If  it  does  you 
so  much  good,  it  can't  do  me  any  harm,"  said  the  Emir 


62  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

jovially.  "  So  —  here's  to  the  pair  of  bright  eyes  that  — 
Ah!  there  she  is.  Come  in,  acushla,  and  let's  have  another 
look  at  you." 

But  Sallie  had  stopped  on  the  threshold,  and  stayed 
there,  silent,  unable  to  move.  The  Emir,  staring  avidly 
at  her,  rose  and  lifted  his  glass. 

"  Here's  happy  days  and  no  regrets  —  to  the  two  of 
us!  "  he  cried,  and  was  draining  it  off  when  Captain  Dove, 
at  his  back,  felled  him  to  the  floor  with  a  well-aimed  blow 
of  the  full  water-bottle,  which  was  the  most  convenient 
weapon  at  hand. 

"  Are  his  two  cut-throats  out  there  safe?  "  the  old  man 
hissed  from  between  set  teeth,  and  Sallie,  looking  round, 
saw  two  limp  figures  huddled  with  hanging  heads  in  the 
dark  alleyway  just  beyond  the  door. 

"  Safe  as  houses,"  Slyne  answered  evenly,  since  she  stood 
silent,  aghast.  "  I  made  sure  of  them  before  I  went  aft. 
A  single  drink  settled  their  hash.  You  must  have  made  the 
dose  in  the  other  bottle  pretty  strong." 

"  It's  just  as  well,  after  all,  you  see,  that  we  didn't 
depend  on  fixing  him  the  same  way,"  said  Captain  Dove, 
recovering  his  self-command  and  indicating  the  prone 
Emir  with  a  contemptuous  foot.  He  seemed  to  have  for- 
gotten for  the  moment  his  grudge  against  Slyne.  "  I  was 
afraid  he'd  smell  a  rat  if  we  tried  that  old  trick  on  him. 

"  And  now  —  the  sooner  he's  over  the  side  the  better. 
Don't  stand  there  staring,  Sallie!  Go  and  call  some  of 
the  men  in." 

The  girl  turned  and  went,  dazedly,  drawing  her  skirts 
close  as  she  passed  the  two  huddled  figures  in  the  alleyway. 
Half  a  dozen  of  the  watch  on  deck  carried  the  Emir  and 
his  ineffectual  retinue  up  the  gangway,  flung  them,  ,like 


*» 

HOBSON'S  CHOICE  63 

so  much  rubbish,  into  the  boat  out  of  which  the  hapless 
Hobson  had  fallen,  and  at  once  cast  it  loose. 

"  They'll  probably  all  wake  up  before  they  drift  into 
the  surf,"  said  Captain  Dove,  looking  on,  with  a  laugh  which 
made  even  Slyne  glance  askance  at  him.  "  And,  if  not  — 
it  isn't  my  fault. 

"  That  fellow  thought  he  could  get  the  better  of  me, 
Slyne  —  and  there's  the  result ! 

"  Is  that  you,  Mr.  Da  Costa?    Where's  Hobson?  " 

"  He's  locked  himself  into  his  room,  sir,  and  barricaded 
the  door,"  the  new  second  mate  answered  swiftly,  with  a 
servile  smile. 

"  Humph!  "  exclaimed  Captain  Dove.  "  All  right. 
Weigh  anchor  at  once.  Head  west  for  an  hour  and  then 
due  north.  You'll  be  relieved  before  long.  And  just  bear 
in  mind  that  we've  got  to  be  very  careful  of  coal  now;  we've 
no  more  on  board  than  will  take  us  to  Genoa." 

Da  Costa  saluted  briskly,  and  had  disappeared  before 
Captain  Dove  turned  and  caught  sight  of  Sallie  again. 

"  Get  away  aft  and  turn  in  at  once,"  he  called  irritably 
to  her.  "  You'll  have  to  take  the  bridge  by  and  by,  and 
for  a  good  long  spell,  too  —  we've  all  had  a  hard  time  of 
it  ashore  while  you've  been  idling  on  board." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  WHITE   BLACKBIRD 

COULD  do  with  a  sleep  myself!  "  said  Slyne,  as 
he  followed  the  old  man  toward  the  mid-ship  saloon 
after  Sallie  had  gone. 

"  There's  no  hurry,"  Captain  Dove  disagreed.  "  And 
—  we've  Hobson  to  get  rid  of  first.  What  the  everlasting 
blazes  made  you  bring  him  aboard  again!  " 

Slyne  darted  a  grimace  of  disgust  at  him. 

"  An  idea  of  my  own,"  he  answered  slowly. 

"  But  —  you're  surely  not  going  to  murder  him  in  his 
bed  now!  "  he  added.  Case-hardened  and  unscrupulous 
though  he  might  be,  he  had  not  yet  got  so  far  as  to  contem- 
plate without  a  seasick  qualm  the  idea  of  killing  any  man 
in  cold  blood. 

He  threw  himself  down  on  the  settee  in  the  malodorous 
little  saloon. 

"  I'm  tired  to  death  of  you  and  your  butcher's  methods!  " 
said  he,  regardless  of  consequences.  "  Have  you  no  con- 
science at  all?  " 

Captain  Dove,  blinking  balefully  at  him  from  out  of 
weak,  red-rimmed  eyes,  showed  all  his  tobacco-stained 
fangs:  but  in  an  unexpected  smile  instead  of  a  snarl. 
The  old  man  was  evidently  in  a  much  better  temper  now 
that  he  had  turned  the  tables  so  neatly  on  nearly  all  of 
those  who  had  thought  him  utterly  in  their  power.  It 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  65 

seemed  to  amuse  him  to  hear  Jasper  Slyne  in  the  role 
of  mentor. 

"  None  at  all,"  he  answered  amiably.  "  And  —  how 
about  you?  " 

"  You  can  leave  me  out  of  your  reckoning  after  this," 
Slyne  declared,  the  more  morose  since  he  knew  very  well 
what  good  grounds  the  other  had  for  that  taunt.  "  I'm 
going  ashore  just  as  soon  as  we  get  to  Genoa,  and  you'll 
never  set  eyes  on  me  again.  I  know  when  I've  had  enough 
—  and  I've  had  enough  now." 

"  Not  you,"  Captain  Dove  contradicted  him  blandly. 
"  Say  when."  He  had  whisked  a  bottle  of  champagne 
out  from  a  locker  under  the  settee,  knocked  its  wired  head 
neatly  off  on  the  table-edge,  and  was  pouring  the  creamy 
wine  out  into  a  glass,  with  hospitable  but  steady  hand. 
When  the  glass  was  full  he  stopped,  but  not  tfl-1  then,  since 
Slyne  had  said  nothing. 

He  filled  another  for  himself,  and  drank  its  contents 
off  in  a  couple  of  gulps,  produced  a  box  of  cigars,  and  lighted 
one  clumsily.  Slyne  followed  his  example  in  both  respects, 
but  more  deliberately,  and  the  heady  liquor  was  not  with- 
out its  prompt  effect  on  him. 

"  What  I  mean,  Dove,"  said  he  presently  in  that  gran- 
diose, patronising  manner  which  always  rubbed  Captain 
Dove  the  wrong  way,  "  what  I  mean  is  that  I've  had  far 
more  than  enough  of  this  rough-and-tumble  work.  It 
isn't  the  sort  of  sport  at  all  that  appeals  to  a  gentleman. 
And,  what's  more,  I  haven't  made  a  penny  out  of  it  all." 

Captain  Dove's  eyes  began  to  kindle.  Slyne  had  suc- 
ceeded, as  usual,  in  touching  him  on  the  raw. 

"  No  more  have  I,"  he  asserted  with  a  fierce  oath.  "  I've 
barely  enough  left  to  pay  the  port-dues  in  Genoa  and 


66 

take  my  ship  through  the  canal;  you  know  very  well, 
too,  that  I  won't  be  safe  till  I  see  Suez  astern.  For  a  few 
tons  of  coal  and  some  temporary  repairs  I'll  have  to  trust 
to  my  wits.  I'm  worse  off  now  than  I  was  when  I  picked 
you  up  in  New  York,  with  your  precious  scheme  for  making 
our  fortunes  in  Central  America." 

The  flagrant  injustice  of  that  reproach  was  so  obvious 
that  Slyne  kept  his  self-control.  "  Whose  fault  was  it 
that  you  were  so  soft  with  Sallie  as  to  let  her  spoil  all  our 
plans?  "  he  asked  equably,  and  did  not  wait  for  an  answer. 
"  And  you're  far  better  off  at  the  finish  than  I  am,"  said 
he.  "  Your  foolishness  has  cost  us  both  our  chance  of  a 
big  haul  —  but  you've  still  got  her." 

"  I've  still  got  her,"  the  old  man  admitted,  if  grudgingly. 
"  That's  true.  I've  still  got  her.  And  she'll  have  to  pay 
pretty  high,  perhaps,  for  all  she's  cost  me  of  late.  You 
wouldn't  believe,  Slyne,  how  well  I've  always  treated  that 
girl.  I  couldn't  have  done  better  by  her  if  she  had  been 
my  own  daughter.  And  I  wouldn't  have  believed  she'd 
ever  go  back  on  me  as  she's  done  of  late." 

"  You  don't  know  how  to  handle  her  at  all,"  Slyne  as- 
serted bluntly.  "  You're  getting  into  your  dotage.  She's 
outgrown  you.  And  what'll  happen  in  the  end  will  be 
that  you'll  lose  her  too.  You're  far  too  grasping." 

Captain  Dove  shook  his  hoary  head  with  a  cunning 
grin.  "  If  I  don't  know  how  to  handle  her,  there's  nothing 
you  can  teach  me,"  he  commented.  "  And  yet  you'd  give 
your  very  eye-teeth  for  her!  " 

"  It  would  be  the  best  bit  of  business  you've  done  for 
long,"  Slyne  affirmed.  "  She's  cost  you  far  more  already 
than  you'll  ever  make  again,  and  me,  too,  for  that  matter. 
Look  what  a  hoodoo  she's  been  to  us  all  this  trip.  We  might 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  67 

both  have  been  millionaires  at  this  minute  but  for  her  inter- 
fering with  — ' 

"Avast  there,  now!"  the  old  man  growled  savagely. 
"  Don't  keep  harping  on  that  string,  curse  you!  I  know 
when  I've  had  enough,  too.  So  just  keep  your  head  shut 
about  it.  And  bear  in  mind,  Slyne,  that  what  I  say  goes, 
on  the  Olive  Branch,  or  —  it'll  maybe  be  '  Hobson's  choice  ' 
for  you  too  before  we  make  Genoa." 

Slyne  gave  him  back  glance  for  virulent  glance,  but  kept 
silence,  and  showed  his  wisdom  thereby.  For  Captain 
Dove,  in  that  frame  of  mind,  might  very  easily  have  been 
moved  to  some  insane  act  of  violence.  The  old  man  had 
never  before  gone  so  far  as  actually  to  threaten  his  casual 
accomplice.  And  even  Slyne,  who  did  not  fear  death  it- 
self, did  not  desire  to  die  in  a  more  unpleasant  manner  than 
need  be.  He  sat  quiet,  searching  his  nimble  brain  for 
some  more  soothing  speech. 

"  What  makes  me  so  hot,"  he  explained,  relaxing  his 
scowl  as  he  held  out  his  empty  glass,  "  is  that  I  haven't 
the  money  you  want  for  her.  You've  no  idea,  Dove,  how 
well  I  could  do  with  a  wife  like  that.  And  now  — 

"  Sallie  wouldn't  whistle  to  your  teachings  now  any  more 
than  she  will  to  mine  —  not  so  well,  in  fact,"  Captain  Dove 
declared,  accepting  the  friendly  hint,  and  reached  for  the 
bottle.  "  I  wish  to  blazes  that  this  lame  flipper  of  mine 
was  fit  for  duty  again.  See  if  you  can  find  a  fresh  bottle 
below  you,  Slyne.  And,  for  heaven's  sake!  talk  sense. 
You  haven't  the  money  —  and  that's  the  end  of  the 
matter." 

Slyne,  searching  under  the  settee,  scowled  to  himself. 
He  was  not  for  a  moment  prepared  to  admit  that  the  matter 
was  at  an  end,  but  neither  was  he  inclined  to  contradict 


68  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

his  companion  again.  It  irked  him  to  have  to  hold  his 
tongue.  He  approached  the  subject  afresh,  from  another 
direction. 

"  You  may  not  find  it  so  easy  now  as  you  think  to  dispose 
of  her,"  he  adventured.  "  The  world's  not  so  wide  as  it 
was,  for  one  thing,  and  —  she's  developed  a  very  strong 
will  of  her  own  these  past  few  months." 

"  Tell  me  something  I  don't  know,"  begged  Captain 
Dove.    "  The  world's  become  far  too  small  to  suit  me  — 
or  you  either,  Slyne  —  but  I  know  one  or  two  quiet  corners 
yet  where  the  black  flag's  better  known  than  the  British, 
if  that's  what  you're  hinting  at. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  Pirate  Isles,  for  instance? 
They're  not  what  they  used  to  be,  of  course,  but  there's 
still  trade  to  be  done  in  those  waters,  in  spite  of  the  French. 
I  once  met  a  Chinese  mandarin  there  who  offered  me  a 
hundred  thousand  taels  for  the  girl  —  close  on  eighty-five 
thousand  dollars.  I'm  going  East  again  now,  and  I  know 
where  to  lay  my  hands  on  him  when  I  want  to. 

"  A  year  ago  I  could  have  got  rid  of  her  to  a  son-of-a- 
gun  from  Shiraz  who  tried  to  do  me  down  over  a  deal  in 
rifles  for  Afghanistan,  but  I  wouldn't  let  her  go,  to  a 
scoundrel  like  that. 

"  The  Rajah  of —  But,  pshaw!  I've  had  a  round  dozen 
of  such  offers  for  her,  first  and  last,  all  good  as  government 
bonds  —  and  a  lot  more  than  that  like  yours,  Slyne." 

Slyne  almost  choked  over  his  champagne,  but  Captain 
Dove  did  not  seem  to  notice  that. 

"  And  now  I'll  take  the  next  —  of  the  right  sort  —  that 
comes  along,"  the  old  man  went  on,  growing  gloomy  again. 
"  I've  been  too  particular,  I'll  admit.  I've  picked  and 
chosen  for  her,  at  my  own  expense,  and  always  meaning  to 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  69 

see  her  as  happily  settled  as  might  be.  I  couldn't  have 
considered  her  more  if  she  had  been  my  own  daughter." 

Slyne  pricked  up  his  ears.  "  That's  just  where  the 
trouble  will  come  in  for  you,"  said  he.  "  She's  somebody's 
daughter,  and  some  day  she'll  find  out  whose;  she  isn't 
by  any  means  so  simple  as  you  suppose.  Then  there  will 
be  the  devil  to  pay  —  out  of  empty  pockets." 

He  hesitated  over  an  impulse  to  argue  the  moral  aspect  of 
Captain  Dove's  expressed  intention  regarding  the  helpless 
girl,  but  concluded  to  let  that  go,  since  the  pecuniary  side 
of  it  was  so  much  more  to  the  point.  "  I  wonder  you  don't 
see,"  he  went  on  patiently,  "  how  much  better  it  would 
pay  you  in  the  long  run  to  marry  her  to  me,  and  so  be  done 
with  all  your  worries.  I'm  bound  to  make  money.  With 
her  to  help  me  I'd  soon  be  breaking  the  bank. 

"  I'm  not  close-fisted,  either;  I'm  willing  to  share  the 
profits  with  you  as  long  as  you've  any  use  for  them."  He 
held  up  a  protesting  hand  as  Captain  Dove  would  have  cut 
in,  no  doubt  with  some  caustic  sarcasm.  "  What  I'm  offer- 
ing you  isn't  eighty-five  thousand  dollars,  remember,"  he 
finished,  "  but  a  free  income  for  life,  that'll  run  into  six 
figures  a  year  —  or  I'll  be  vastly  surprised  at  your  simple 
tastes!  " 

"  You'd  be  more  surprised  if  I  said  '  done  '  to  any  such 
idiot's  bargain,"  opined  Captain  Dove,  and  laughed  like 
an  old  hyena.  "  And  the  sooner  you  set  all  such  nonsen- 
sical projects  aside,  the  better  we'll  get  on  together.  My 
pretty  white  blackbird  will  never  have  to  fret  her  heart 
out  in  any  imitation-gilt  cage.  And  more  than  that,  I 
heard  her  tell  you  not  so  long  ago  • —  I  suppose  you  forgot 
that  the  open  port  below  you  was  just  at  my  ear  —  that 
she'd  far  rather  beg  in  the  gutter  than  marry  you !  " 


70  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Slyne  flushed  darkly  under  his  tan  and  darted  an  ugly 
glance  at  his  grinning  tormentor.  He  had  always  plumed 
himself  on  his  way  with  women,  and  Captain  Dove's  chance 
shaft  had  sorely  wounded  his  very  sensitive  self-esteem. 
But  he  still  controlled  his  own  barbed  tongue  and  said 
nothing  of  the  new  card  he  had  up  his  sleeve. 

"  So  be  it,  then,"  he  agreed,  with  a  somewhat  difficult 
smile.  "  I  can't  force  you  "  ("  you  old  fool!  "  he  added 
mentally)  "  to  take  the  chance  of  a  lifetime  when  it's  of- 
fered you.  And,  of  course,  what  you've  told  me  now  makes 
all  the  difference.  You've  often  given  me  to  understand 
that  Sallie's  a  somebody  by  rights.  Now  you  say  she's  only 
a  slave! " 

Captain  Dove  cogitated  deeply,  and  then  drank  again. 
The  Olive  Branch  was  moving  smoothly  along  her  course, 
leaving  a  heavy  load  of  trouble  always  a  little  further 
astern.  A  pleasant  sense  of  security  and  comfort  had  re- 
placed the  agonizing  mental  strain  of  the  past  few  days. 
The  wine  he  had  been  imbibing  was  buoying  him  up,  and 
he  was  inclined  to  be  garrulous. 

"I've  often  told  you  she  ought  to  be  at  least  a  lady  of 
title  in  her  own  right,"  he  remarked  at  length,  "  she's  so 
damned  high  and  mighty  with  me  at  times.  But  —  who 
she  really  is  —  I've  never  told  you  that,  have  I,  Slyne?  " 

Slyne  shook  his  head,  with  assumed  unconcern. 

"  I've  never  told  you  that  —  because  I  don't  know,"  the 
old  man  chuckled  explosively. 

"  I  don't  suppose  it's  ever  struck  you  that  it  might  pay 
you  to  find  out?  "  Slyne  inquired  with  sardonic  gravity, 
and  Captain  Dove  began  to  show  signs  of  becoming  rest- 
less again. 

"  How  the  Seven  Stars  can  I  find  out!  "   he  demanded 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  71 

indignantly.  "  The  trader  I  bought  her  from,  along  with  a 
shipload  of  niggers  for  the  Sultan  of  El  Merayeh,  when  she 
was  very  little  more  than  knee-high  to  me  —  and  a  pretty 
stiff  price  I  paid  for  her,  too,  let  me  tell  you!  —  had  brought 
her  from  the  other  side  of  the  Back  o'  Beyond  that  lies  three 
months  away  behind  the  mountains  of  God-knows-Where. 
So  much  I  found  out  from  him  one  way  and  another,  al- 
though he  could  speak  no  language  that  I'd  ever  heard  be- 
fore. And  no  one  will  ever  be  able  to  find  out  more.  She's 
my  property,  by  right  of  purchase.  It  wouldn't  pay  even 
her  own  father,  whoever  he  is,  to  try  to  take  her  away  from 
me." 

"  But  where  was  it  you  ran  across  her?  "  asked  Slyne, 
with  somewhat  too  much  eagerness.  "  Oh,  all  right.  You 
needn't  tell  me  any  more  than  you  want  to.  I'm  not  in  the 
least  inquisitive." 

He  lighted  another  cigar,  and  lay  back  in  his  seat  as  if 
he  took  no  further  interest  in  that  strange  story.  But  in 
his  fertile  brain  he  was  seeking  some  way  to  turn  it  to  his 
own  advantage.  And  the  obstacles  before  him  merely  made 
him  the  more  determined.  For  the  needy  adventurer's 
restless  mind  was  inflamed  by  dreams  of  the  future  he  might 
achieve  with  a  wife  such  as  Sallie  to  help  him,  by  the  delu- 
sion that,  once  she  was  legally  his,  he  would  succeed  in 
bending  or  breaking  her  will  to  his  every  wish. 

In  the  smoke  that  hung  about  the  skylight  of  the  squalid, 
grubby  little  saloon,  with  its  two  evil-smelling,  untended 
kerosene  lamps  overwhelming  even  the  odour  of  two  rank 
cigars,  he  saw  golden,  diamond-set  visions  of  such  a  career 
as  could  only  end  at  the  very  crest  of  that  dazzling  society 
amid  which  crowns  nod  in  friendly  fashion  to  coronets, 
which  will,  on  occasion,  open  its  doors  as  if  hospitably  to  a 


72  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

man  with  money  and  brains  and  a  tempting  wife.  Slyne 
had  more  than  once  in  his  palmier  days  strayed  boldly  over 
all  boundaries  into  the  outskirts  of  quite  august  circles,  and 
felt  assured  that  he  was  fitted  to  shine  among  even  the  most 
select. 

While  as  for  Sallie  —  he  could  imagine  her  at  his  side, 
tall  and  slender,  in  the  very  latest  mode,  but  scarcely  more 
than  young  girl  yet,  as  lissom  and  shapely  as  any  sculptor's 
divinest  dream  of  Aphrodite,  with  her  pure,  proud,  sensi- 
tive features  faintly  flushed  under  the  scrutiny  of  the  mul- 
titude to  the  complexion  of  a  wild-rose  at  its  prime;  with 
her  curved,  crimson  lips,  drooped  a  little  as  though  in  ap- 
peal against  the  envious  stare  of  the  other  women,  question- 
ing eyebrows,  eyes  with  the  wild  wine  of  youth  abrim  be- 
hind their  long,  shadowy  lashes,  alive  with  strange, 
lambent  lights,  like  twin  rainbows  born  between  sunshine 
and  shower;  and,  over  all,  a  glory  of  red-gold  hair  luridly 
aglow  in  the  gleam  of  innumerable  electroliers. 

His  own  eyes  hardened  and  narrowed  again.  A  cock- 
roach crawling  along  a  beam  had  brought  him  back  to 
crude  matters  of  fact. 

"  Does  she  know  —  what  you've  told  me?  "  he  tried 
afresh,  with  unconquerable  persistence. 

Captain  Dove  shook  his  head  abstractedly,  and  then  sat 
up  with  a  scowl,  realising  too  late  that  he  had  admitted 
more  than  was  maybe  wise. 

"  It  doesn't  make  any  difference,  of  course,"  said  Slyne, 
to  appease  him,  "  since  there's  so  little  to  know:  and  she 
doesn't  seem  much  interested,  does  she?  The  upshot  is  that 
she's  your  property;  there  isn't  a  court  in  the  world  that 
could  say  otherwise.  And  no  other  claimant  could  prove 
his  case. 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  73 

"  If  you'll  take  a  tip  from  me,  though,  you'll  see  that  she 
and  Yoxall  don't  give  you  the  slip  together  some  fine—  ''  He 
halted,  tongue-tied  under  the  old  man's  murderous  glance. 

"  You  can  count  him  out,"  Captain  Dove  asserted,  with 
a  cold  assurance  which  very  much  discomposed  his  more 
imaginative  companion.  "  Is  that  .bottle  empty  too? 
Then  I'll  just  see  to  him  now,  before  I  turn  in.  I'm  much 
obliged  to  you  for  reminding  me." 

He  rose,  still  scowling,  and  set  his  lips  to  one  of  several 
speaking-tubes  let  into  the  bulkhead  behind  him.  "  Is 
that  Mr.  Brasse?  "  he  demanded.  "  I  want  one  of  those 
boxes  of  cigars  you  have  in  the  engine-room."  He  set  one 
ear  to  the  tube,  nodded,  and  sat  down  again. 

"  You're  not  going  to  —  do  anything  rash?  "  Slyne  asked, 
uncomfortably. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  do  anything  that  would  upset  an  in- 
fant in  arms  —  for  more  than  a  minute,"  returned  Captain 
Dove  in  his  mildest  tone,  and  Slyne  sprang  to  his  feet  with 
a  startled  oath  as  a  hatch  in  the  floor  beyond  the  table  at 
which  they  were  sitting  suddenly  lifted,  and  in  the  opening 
appeared  the  bald  head  and  stoop  shoulders  of  the  sullen 
chief  engineer. 

"  It's  all  right.  You  needn't  be  nervous,"  said  Captain 
Dove  with  a  nasty  grin.  "  There  are  lots  of  other  funny 
little  contrivances  you  know  nothing  about  on  this  ship." 
And  Slyne,  looking  angrily  sheepish,  returned  to  its  pocket 
in  his  white  coat  something  he  had  pulled  out  in  a  hurry, 
while  his  tormentor  stooped  and  took  gingerly  from  the 
engineer  the  innocent  looking  cigar  box  which  that  indi- 
vidual was  holding  out  to  him. 

The  hatch  descended  again,  noiselessly,  and  they  were 
once  more  alone. 


74  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I  don't  like  that  infernal  fellow,"  Slyne  declared 
in  a  sulky  voice,  "  and  he  doesn't  like  me  —  or  you 
either,  for  that  matter.  If  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  turn 
my  back  on  him  when  there's  a  hammer  within  his 
reach." 

"  Don't  you  worry  about  me,"  Captain  Dove  advised  in 
return,  and,  holding  the  box  to  his  ear,  shook  it  slightly. 
"  My  head's  quite  as  thick  as  your  own  —  if  it  comes  to 
hammer-work,"  he  added,  in  a  provoking  tone.  But  that 
shot  missed  its  mark.  Slyne  was  very  much  more  inter- 
ested in  the  cigar  box. 

The  old  man  set  that  down  on  the  table,  and,  stooping, 
pulled  off  his  shoes.  "  I  don't  want  Da  Costa  to  notice  us," 
he  explained,  and  Slyne,  inspired  by  a  fearful  curiosity, 
followed  his  example. 

Box  in  hand,  but  at  arm's  length,  Captain  Dove  left  the 
saloon,  tiptoed  laboriously  up  the  steep  stair  which  led,  by 
way  of  the  quarter-deck,  to  the  chart-house  behind  the 
bridge,  and,  stepping  out  on  to  the  deck  with  extreme  pre- 
caution, passed  aft  into  the  darkness. 

The  night  was  no  less  obscure  now  that  dawn  was  near, 
but  he  could  have  found  his  way  about  the  ship  blind,  and 
Slyne  crept  closely  after  him,  not  knowing  what  to  expect, 
since  Reuben  Yoxall  lay  safely  locked  in  one  of  the  rooms 
below. 

Captain  Dove  stopped  behind  the  canvas  shaft  of  one  of 
the  wind-sails  which  had  been  spread  to  catch  the  scant 
breeze  and  relieve  a  little  the  atmosphere  of  the  mid-ship 
cabins.  Its  base  was  made  fast  about  the  hood  of  an  or- 
dinary deck  ventilator. 

"  Cast  it  loose  for  a  minute  and  listen,"  he  whispered  to 
his  companion,  and  Slyne  obeyed. 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  75 

He  listened  there  for  a  time,  and  then  turned  to  whisper 
excitedly  to  Captain  Dove. 

"  There's  something  wrong  with  him,"  he  said.  "  He's 
raving.  He's  down  with  fever,  as  sure's  I  live." 

"  Let  me  hear,"  the  old  man  commanded,  and  was  very 
soon  satisfied. 

"Hell!"  he  ejaculated.  "Now,  isn't  that  the  limit! 
There's  surely  some  hoodoo  on  board  this  ship. 

"  Tie  it  up  again,  Slyne.    We  needn't  waste  powder  and 
shot  on  him.    He's  booked  out,  express,  on  a  free  pass  — 
and  a  damned  good  riddance,  too!  " 

Slyne  was  not  slow  in  re-fastening  the  canvas  to  the 
ventilator  again.  But  even  then  Captain  Dove  was  not 
done  with  him. 

"  Hobson's  in  the  next  cabin,"  the  old  man  remarked, 
"  and  we  may  as  well  give  him  his  ticket  now  as  later  on. 
We  can't  afford  to  let  him  bolt  ashore  whenever  we  make 
port  —  and  blow  the  gaff  on  us  both,  Slyne!  " 

Slyne  hung  back,  his  gorge  up  again. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  he  demanded. 

"  You  do  your  part  and  I'll  do  mine,"  snapped  Captain 
Dove.  And  Slyne  cast  loose  the  second  wind-chute. 

Into  the  wide,  rusted  mouth  of  the  ventilator  Captain 
Dove  cautiously  thrust  one  end  of  the  flat  cigar  box  and 
pushed  that  well  down  its  open  throat.  A  muffled  click  was 
no  more  than  audible  but,  none  the  less,  caused  Slyne  to 
start  apprehensively.  And  then  the  old  man  withdrew  the 
box,  tossed  it  over  the  ship's  side,  and,  with  a  hurried  whis- 
per to  Slyne  to  make  the  canvas  fast  again,  scuttled  off 
back  to  the  saloon. 

Slyne  was  not  slow  in  following  him,  but  stubbed  his  toes 
hurtfully  on  his  way  to  the  stair  and  could  scarcely  repress 


76  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

the  curse  that  rose  to  his  lips.  Just  then,  however,  he  caught 
sight  of  a  shadow  at  the  near  end  of  the  bridge  above, 
which,  he  knew,  was  Da  Costa,  on  watch,  and  he  did  not 
care  to  be  detected  in  any  such  dangerous  and  undignified 
predicament.  "When  he  limped  into  the  saloon  below  he 
found  Captain  Dove  seated  there,  once  more  sucking 
at  a  cigar,  head  cocked  on  one  side  as  if  listening  for 
something. 

"  Was  it  an  explosive?  "  demanded  Slyne,  almost  boiling 
over  at  the  idea  that  he  had  unwittingly  been  risking  his 
life  as  a  cat's-paw. 

11  What  the  blazes  are  you  talking  about?  "  Captain  Dove 
counter-questioned  acidly.  "  And  where  have  you  been, 
eh?  I  thought  you  said  you  were  going  to  bed." 

He  stared  unwinkingly  into  the  other's  angry,  suspicious 
eyes.  "  What's  it  like  on  deck?  "  he  inquired.  "  Any  sign 
of  wind  yet?  " 

"  You  ought  to  know,  you've  just  been  on  deck,"  snapped 
Slyne. 

"  On  deck!  "  exclaimed  Captain  Dove  in  surprise.  "  Not 
me.  I've  been  sitting  smoking  here  since  you  left  the 
saloon." 

Slyne,  busy  replacing  his  shoes,  thought  that  over,  and 
sat  up  again  with  a  sneering  laugh. 

"  Don't  forget,  Dove,"  said  he,  "  that,  if  you  ever  go 
back  on  me  at  a  pinch,  that  will  be  the  worst  day's  work 
you've  ever  done  for  yourself.  I'm  the  one  who's  been 
sitting  here  while  you've  been  on  deck  —  and  I  don't  know 
yet  what  you  went  for." 

"  You'll  hear  presently,"  the  other  informed  him,  quite 
unmoved  by  his  threat.  "  And  don't  you  forget,  Slyne, 
that,  if  you  ever  go  back  on  me  at  a  pinch,  I've  another  — 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  77 

box  of  cigars  that  I'm  keeping  for  your  benefit;  I  don't 
think  Brasse  will  fail  to  look  very  carefully  after  it, 
either." 

Slyne  blanched  a  little,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  at  that 
moment  a  stifled  shout  came  from  behind  some  closed  door 
at  the  end  of  the  alleyway  outside  the  airless  saloon.  He 
moved,  as  if  to  rise,  but  sat  still,  rigid,  his  eyes  dilated,  as 
a  blood-curdling,  long-drawn  cry  reached  his  ears  dully 
from  the  distance,  and  finally  died  to  silence  in  a  quavering 
agony. 

Even  Captain  Dove  was  uncomfortably  affected  by  it. 

A  shrill  whistle  made  them  both  jump  as  the  sight  of  a 
policeman  just  then  might  have  done.  It  was  the  old  man 
who  first  recovered  his  nerve. 

"  That's  Da  Costa,  curse  him!  "  he  muttered,  and  darted 
a  glance  of  contempt  at  Slyne  as  he  crossed  to  the  bridge 
speaking-tube. 

"  How  the  devil  do  I  know!  "  he  roared  into  that,  after 
listening  to  what  his  new  second  mate  had  to  say.  "  Yes, 
I  heard  it.  You'd  better  send  down  and  find  out  what  it 
was." 

He  set  the  whistle  into  the  tube  again  and  turned  to 
Slyne. 

"Pull  yourself  together,  you  fool!"  he  said  savagely. 
"  This  isn't  the  time  to  show  the  white  feather.  I  wouldn't 
trust  —  '  He  stopped  abruptly,  hearing  the  sound  of  heavy 
feet  in  the  passage  as  some  of  the  watch  on  deck  came 
tramping  in,  and  Slyne,  who  had  also  heard  that,  pulled 
out  his  handkerchief  to  hide  his  tell-tale  face. 

The  footsteps  did  not  stop  at  the  saloon  door,  however, 
but  went  on  to  the  end  of  the  alleyway.  And,  when  Cap- 
tain Dove  at  length  looked  out,  one  of  the  men  there  was 


78  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

still  knocking  violently  at  the  door  of  Hobson's  room.    But 
he  could  obtain  no  answer. 

"  Better  get  a  hatchet  and  handspikes,  Cassidy,"  said 
Captain  Dove,  "  and  break  the  door  in.  Something  must 
have  gone  wrong  inside." 

The  panelling  soon  began  to  splinter  under  these  drastic 
measures.  A  crash  told  that  it  had  succumbed,  and  then 
the  two  listeners  heard  the  key  being  turned  in  the  lock. 

They  strained  their  ears  to  catch  what  the  men  were 
muttering  to  each  other.  One  jumped  clumsily  back  into 
the  passage  with  a  hoarse  bark  of  alarm,  and,  over  the 
shuffling  of  feet  which  ensued,  could  be  heard  the  soft  thud 
of  quick,  desperate  blows  on  some  substance  which  muffled 
them,  until  one  fell  on  woodwork  again  and  a  murmur  of 
eager  congratulations  succeeded  it. 

The  man  Cassidy  came  along  to  the  saloon  door,  out  of 
breath  but  exultant.  "  Mr.  Hobson's  stone-dead,  sir,"  said 
he,  extending  his  hatchet,  on  whose  flat  blade  lay,  black 
and  limp,  a  long  thin  snake  that  looked  like  a  slimy  shoe- 
string. "  Mr.  Hobson's  stone-dead  —  and  that's  what 
killed  him.  It  all  but  got  me  too,  while  I  was  turning  over 
the  blankets." 

'"  Bring  it  nearer  the  light,"  Captain  Dove  directed,  and 
then  bent  over  it,  frowning,  while  Slyne,  at  his  shoulder, 
stared  at  it  as  if  fascinated. 

"  Huh!  "  Captain  Dove  at  length  commented.  "  Your 
luck  was  certainly  in,  Cassidy,  when  you  managed  to  dodge 
that.  It  must  have  got  on  board  while  we  were  alongside 
the  wharf  at  the  Rio.  But  my  luck's  out,  since  I've  lost 
another  man  —  and  the  ship  so  short-handed  too ! 

"  You  might  see  if  you  can  find  a  bottle  of  grog  for  those 
lads,  Mr.  Slyne.  And  —  Cassidy.  Just  rouse  the  car- 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD  79 

penter  out  and  tell  him  to  tie  a  fire-bar  or  two  to  the  body 
and  slip  it  over  the  side.  We  can't  keep  a  dead  man  on 
board  till  morning  in  weather  like  this." 

Cassidy  touched  his  forelock  and  went  off,  apparently 
quite  content  with  the  luck  which  had  left  him  alive  to 
enjoy  his  share  of  the  bottle  Slyne  had  handed  him.  Cap- 
tain Dove  shut  the  door  behind  him,  and  looked  contem- 
platively round  at  Slyne.  His  own  face  was  grey.  The  ar- 
tificial animation  derived  from  the  alcohol  he  had  imbibed 
was  dying  away.  He  looked  very  old  and  tired. 

He  slouched  across  to  the  speaking-tube  and  whistled  up 
the  engine-room,  while  Slyne  sat  watching  him  with  sombre 
eyes. 

"  We've  got  black-water  fever  on  board  now,  Brasse," 
he  said  in  a  weary  voice.  "  Hobson's  dead  already,  and 
the  mate's  down  with  it,  too.  I  want  you  to  send  one  of 
your  men  up  to  see  after  him.  I  can't  spare  a  single  deck- 
hand. And  I  must  have  some  one  —  or  Sallie  will  be  want- 
ing to  nurse  him  herself." 

He  set  his  ear  to  the  mouthpiece  and,  after  he  had 
waited  a  while,  spoke  into  it  again. 

"  That's  good,"  he  remarked.  "  Send  him  up  to  the 
mate's  room  right  away.  He'll  have  to  stay  there,  in  quar- 
antine. And  whatever  he  does  know  about  doctoring  will 
maybe  help  him  to  save  his  own  life!  " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

UNMASKED 

SALLIE  sat  up  in  her  disordered  cot  with  a  start  of 
alarm  when  Ambrizette  came  in  to  wake  her,  as  she 
had  directed  before  she  lay  down.  She  had  scarcely 
slept  at  all  amid  dreadful  dreams,  and  was  still  very  weary, 
both  body  and  mind.  She  had  not  yet  had  time  to  forget 
the  horrors  of  over-night. 

But  she  had  no  desire  to  dwell  on  them,  and  —  there 
was  the  day's  work  awaiting  her.  Twenty  minutes  later 
she  was  on  her  way  to  the  bridge,  to  relieve  Da  Costa. 

That  was  not  the  first  occasion,  by  many,  on  which  she 
had  had  to  fill  a  man's  place.  For  Captain  Dove  had  trained 
her  to  all  the  responsibilities  of  the  sea.  Da  Costa  touched 
his  cap  obsequiously  to  her  and  gave  her  the  course,  which 
she  repeated  after  him,  with  mechanical  precision. 

As  he  turned  to  go,  yawning  wearily,  "  If  you'll  send 
and  have  me  woke  out  again  whenever  you  feel  like  it,  Miss 
Sallie,"  he  said  with  an  ingratiating  flourish,  "  I'll  - 

"  But  Mr.  Yoxall  will  be  taking  the  next  watch,  won't 
he?  "  she  asked,  renewed  doubt  and  distrust  in  her  tired 
eyes. 

The  promoted  Portuguese  quartermaster  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  spread  out  his  hands. 

"  You  and  I  must  stand  watch  and  watch  for  a  little,  Miss 
Sallie,"  he  told  her  with  a  self-satisfied  smirk.  "  The  chief 


UNMASKED  81 

mate  is  sick  —  of  a  fever.  That  Hobson  he  is  already  dead 
and  over  the  side.  And  Captain  Dove  has  sent  order  that 
he  is  not  to  be  disturbed  —  unless  necessary.  He  is  broke 
down,  he  says,  with  illness  and  worry." 

"  Wait  a  minute,  then,  Mr.  Da  Costa,"  she  said,  so  im- 
peratively that  he  halted  and  let  her  pass.  "  I  won't  be 
long,  and  then  I'll  stay  on  duty  till  evening." 

She  hurried  below  by  the  stairway  behind  the  chart- 
house,  and  went  straight  along  the  alleyway  to  Reuben 
Yoxall's  room.  She  was  very  much  alarmed;  she  knew  how 
sudden  and  deadly  the  dreaded  West  African  fever  could 
be.  She  did  not  doubt  that  the  wretched  Hobson  had  fallen 
a  victim  to  it. 

All  was  quiet  within  the  chief  mate's  room.  She  knocked 
gently,  and  the  door  was  opened  almost  at  once.  A  young 
man  in  an  ill-fitting,  coal-blackened  suit  of  blue  dungaree 
looked  inquiringly  out  at  her  and  then  frowned. 

"  Keep  to  the  other  side  of  the  passage,  please,"  he  re- 
quested crisply.  "  This  room's  in  strict  quarantine,  and 
the  risk  of  infection  — 

"  Oh,  never  mind  about  that,"  she  broke  in.    "  It's  no 
worse  for  me  than  for  you.    And  I  must  speak  to  Rube  — 
Mr.  Yoxall.    Is  he  very  bad?    How  did  you  — 

She  had  recognised  him  by  his  voice.  Without  his  hor- 
rible mask  he  looked  so  much  younger  than  she  had  sup- 
posed him  that  she  had  at  first  wondered  who  he  could  be, 
although  his  keen,  resolute  face  was  haggard  and  lined,  his 
pale  lips  dreadfully  drawn  at  the  corners,  and  hideous  re- 
membrances still  seemed  to  lurk  behind  his  steady  grey 
eyes. 

"  He's  asleep  at  present  —  and  pretty  bad,"  said  the 
stranger  sorrowfully.  "  I  had  to  give  lym  an  opiate.  I 


82  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

volunteered  to  look  after  him  —  which  was  the  very  least 
I  could  do.  There  was  no  one  else  who  knew  anything, 
and,  although  I'm  not  a  doctor,  I  know  some  of  the  tricks 
of  the  trade. 

"  And  I  know  enough,"  he  added,  "  to  warn  you  that 
you  must  please  stay  away  from  here  in  the  meantime." 

"  I  won't,"  said  Sallie  simply.  "  He's  my  best  friend, 
Mr.  —  " 

"  Carthew's  my  name,"  the  young  man  in  the  doorway 
informed  her. 

"  He's  my  best  friend,  Mr.  Carthew.  And  —  you  must 
let  me  help." 

Mr.  Carthew  considered  the  matter,  and  nodded. 

"  All  right,"  he  agreed.    "  If  you  like  to  see  to  his  food 
-  what  the  ship's  cook  has  left  at  the  door  will  do  him 
no  good."    And  she  listened  attentively  while  he  went  on 
to  tell  her  what  would  be  best  for  the  sick  man. 

"  Ambrizette  will  prepare  it  and  bring  it  along,"  she 
promised.  "  And  —  you'll  let  me  see  him  next  time  I  come 
down?  " 

"  As  soon  as  he's  fit  to  see  anyone,"  her  new  acquaintance 
assured  her.  And  with  that  Sallie  was  quite  content.  She 
felt  intuitively  that  she  could  trust  him. 

"  Are  you  —  all  right,  yourself?  "  she  asked. 

"  Perfectly  all  right,"  he  assured  her.    "  And  very  glad 
of  the  chance  to  repay  some  small  part  of  what  I  owe  - 
our  friend." 

"  No  one  else  will  come  near  you  here,"  she  said  reflect- 
ively. "  It  may  all  be  for  the  best  in  the  end." 

He  nodded  again,  and,  as  she  turned  away,  shut  the  door 
very  quietly. 

She  hurried  aft,  to  instruct  Ambrizette  as  to  the  food 


UNMASKED  83 

to  be  prepared  and  carried  to  the  sick  man's  door,  and  no 
less  hastily  returned  to  the  bridge.  Da  Costa  left  it  by  the 
other  ladder;  he  evidently  did  not  care  to  come  too  near 
her  then.  And  there  she  remained  all  day,  with  only  the 
sullen,  silent  man  at  the  wheel  for  company. 

Once  during  the  afternoon  she  slipped  down  to  ask  how 
the  mate  was,  and  found  him  delirious.  Slyne  came  on 
deck  as  she  returned  to  her  post,  and  frowned  angrily  as 
she  told  him,  in  answer  to  his  quick  question,  where  she 
had  been.  He  had  obviously  intended  to  join  her  up  there, 
but  thought  better  of  that. 

"  You  mustn't  go  near  him  again,  Sallie,"  he  called  to 
her  peremptorily.  "  Captain  Dove  will  be  very  ill- 
pleased." 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  she  answered,  thankful  so  to  escape 
Jasper  Slyne's  company.  And  he  turned  away  with  a  still 
blacker  frown.  It  was  tiresome  talking  against  the  stiff 
head-wind. 

The  day  dragged  out  its  dreary  length,  until,  late  in  the 
evening,  Da  Costa  came  on  deck  again. 

"I'm  good  for  all  night  now,"  he  told  Sallie  from  a  safe 
distance.  "  Captain  Dove's  still  sound  asleep,  although 
the  mate's  been  making  no  end  of  a  row." 

"I'll  be  up  again  some  time  in  the  morning  watch,  then," 
she  told  him,  and  was  soon  knocking  at  the  door  of  Yoxall's 
room. 

Carthew's  face  was  very  grave  when  he  looked  out. 

"Is  he  worse?  "  she  asked  breathlessly. 

"  Better  —  in  one  way,"  the  young  American  answered. 
"  He's  conscious  now.  He's  had  some  of  the  soup  you  sent 
along." 

"  Can  I  see  him?  "  she  begged. 


84  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  He's  just  been  speaking  of  you.  He  told  me  to  ask  you 
not  to  come  near  him  again." 

She  choked  back  a  dry  sob,  and  had  pushed  past  him  into 
the  room  before  he  could  interfere. 

"  I'll  sit  with  him  for  an  hour  or  two  now,  while  you 
get  a  sleep,"  she  said,  and  'stifled  another  sob  as  she 
saw  how  the  sick  man's  sunken  eyes  grew  glad  at  sight  of 
her. 

Nor  did  anything  that  the  acting  doctor  could  urge  make 
any  difference  in  her  determination;  and  she  hushed  the 
mate's  whispered  protests  with  a  brave  smile. 

"  We're  going  to  pull  you  through,  Rube,  between  us," 
she  whispered  back,  bending  over  him.  "  And  you're  going 
to  obey  orders  for  the  present,  instead  of  giving  them.  So 
don't  say  any  more  about  it  now." 

She  had  seated  herself  on  a  camp-stool  beside  him.  Car- 
thew,  convinced  that  it  would  be  futile  to  argue  any  further 
with  her,  was  evidently  only  too  glad  to  stretch  himself  on 
the  sofa  and  draw  the  curtains.  And  almost  at  once  he 
fell  fast  asleep. 

It  was  very  nearly  midnight  before  he  moved  and  woke 
and  sprang  to  his  feet.  And  Sallie  was  still  sitting  there 
with  one  of  the  mate's  huge  hands  between  both  of 
hers. 

"  He  looks  a  little  better,  don't  you  think?  "  she  asked 
wistfully  before  she  tiptoed  out  of  the  room.  And  Carthew, 
after  a  prolonged  glance  at  his  patient,  nodded  approval 
and  hope. 

That  night  and  the  next  day  and  the  next  again  passed 
without  any  change  of  conditions  on  board.  Captain  Dove 
was  still  confined  to  his  room,  and  would  not  even  see  Slyne, 
who  had,  therefore,  to  live  alone,  bored  to  the  last  limit, 


UNMASKED  85 

not  so  much  afraid  of  the  fever  as  shirking  any  needless 
risk  of  infection,  his  intercourse  with  Sallie  confined  to  an 
occasional  shouted  caution  or  inquiry. 

Da  Costa  took  the  bridge  by  night  and  she  by  day.  And 
every  night  she  relieved  Carthew  for  a  few  hours  from  his 
unremitting  attendance  on  the  sick  man.  She  was  with 
Reuben  Yoxall  when  he  died. 

What  passed  between  the  two  of  them  during  that  last 
vigil  is  not  to  be  told.  But  the  dead  man's  face  was  very 
calm  and  content  when  Sallie  at  length  roused  Carthew 
from  his  scanty  rest  to  tell  him  that  the  appointed  end  had 
come. 

"  But  you  promised  to  call  me  up,"  he  said,  most  un- 
happy for  her. 

"  If  there  was  any  need,"  she  corrected  him  gently. 
"  But  there  was  none.  He  knew  —  before  I  came  in." 

Her  downcast  eyes  were  dry,  but  grief  almost  beyond 
bearing  showed  in  them  as  she  looked  up  at  him  on  her 
way  to  the  door. 

"  You  must  get  away  to  your  own  room  now,"  he  urged, 
"  and  have  a  long,  quiet  rest.  Don't  forget  that  you've 
done  all  you  could  —  and  far  more  than  most  folk  would 
ever  have  dreamed  of  doing." 

Her  lips  trembled  a  little.  She  held  out  a  hand  to 
him  gratefully.  She  could  not  trust  herself  to  speak. 
And,  by  and  by,  in  her  own  quarters,  she  slowly  cried 
herself  to  sleep. 

Captain  Dove  was  on  the  bridge  next  morning  when  she 
appeared,  pale  and  worn.  And  he  flew  into  a  passion  at 
sight  of  her,  rating  her  very  bitterly  for  her  foolhardy 
behaviour. 

"  Go  away  back  to  bed,"  he  finally  ordered,  "  and  keep 


86  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

to  the  poop  till  I  give  you  leave  to  come  forward  again, 
d'ye  hear?  " 

Slyne,  too,  stepped  hastily  aside  as  she  passed  him  on 
her  way  aft  again,  and  called  after  her  some  anxious  advice 
as  to  taking  better  care  of  herself.  She  was  glad  to  think 
that  she  would  be  free  of  him  for  the  next  few  days,  for 
always  in  the  back  of  her  mind  was  the  fear  of  what  he  had 
told  her  before  still  more  urgent  cares  had  come  to  over- 
shadow that  for  a  time  —  that  he  had  got  Captain  Dove 
to  agree  to  give  her  to  him  as  his  wife.  And,  now  that 
Reuben  Yoxall  was  gone,  she  felt  utterly  forlorn  and  friend- 
less. 

The  Olive  Branch  bored  through  the  Strait  of  Gibraltar 
during  the  night,  and  after  that  Captain  Dove  effected 
sundry  surprising  changes  in  his  ship's  appearance.  No 
one  would  have  recognised  the  rakish  Olive  Branch  in  the 
clumsy  looking  craft  with  three  bare  pole-masts  and  a 
smokestack  as  high  as  a  factory  chimney  which  went  lurch- 
ing, with  propellers  awash,  across  the  Gulf  of  Lyons.  Even 
its  name  had  been  changed  again,  and  the  new  paint  care- 
fully aged.  And  a  tattered  Norwegian  flag  lay  ready  at 
hand  in  the  box  beside  the  stubby  pole  at  its  taffrail. 

No  further  case  of  fever  had  occurred  in  the  interval, 
but  he  left  Sallie  isolated  in  her  own  end  of  the  ship  until 
the  lights  of  Genoa  showed  white  and  clear  in  the  distance. 
She  was  on  deck,  late  though  it  was,  watching  them  as  they 
grew  always  clearer,  when  Slyne  came  aft  for  a  moment 
to  tell  her  that  she  was  once  more  free  of  the  ship. 

"  And  isn't  it  glorious  to  get  back  to  civilisation  again?  " 
he  exclaimed,  real  gladness  in  his  voice  and  his  smiling 
eyes.  "  Think  of  the  good  times  we're  going  to  have  now, 
Sallie!  I  can't  stop  to  tell  you  all  I've  planned,  but- 


UNMASKED  87 

I'll  see  you  again  very  soon,  eh?  And  meantime  you  can 
be  getting  ready  to  slip  ashore  with  me  early  to-morrow. 
I  thought  these  last  few  days  would  never  end!  I  do  be- 
lieve I'd  have  jumped  overboard  but  for  you  and  the  prom- 
ise you  made  me." 

He  went  off  again,  in  a  great  hurry,  before  she  could 
even  deny  having  promised  him  anything.  "  Captain 
Dove  wants  me  to  fake  up  an  old  Bill  of  Health  for  him," 
he  called  back,  and  did  not  seem  to  hear  her  when  she 
cried  to  him  to  wait. 

Before  she  reached  the  quarter-deck,  in  her  long  oilskin 
coat,  with  a  broad  sou'wester  to  keep  the  dew  from  her 
hair,  he  had  disappeared.  And  she  did  not  care  to  follow 
him  to  the  saloon  below. 

The  steamer  had  stopped  in  the  offing  to  pick  up  a 
pilot,  and  was  already  slinking  in  between  the  harbour 
headlights  to  the  quarantine  anchorage.  As  soon  as  its 
rusty  cable  roared  through  the  hawse-pipe,  Captain  Dove 
came  down  from  the  bridge,  .and  Sallie  stepped  out  from 
among  the  shadows  to  confront  him,  on  a  quick  impulse. 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  told  Jasper  Slyne  I  would  marry 
him?  "  she  asked  directly,  without  any  preface. 

The  old  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  crossly.  "  Don't 
worry  me  just  now,  girl!  "  he  growled,  but  paused  for  a 
moment  before  passing  on. 

"  Has  he  been  pestering  you  too?  "  he  demanded,  as 
if  aggrieved  himself,  "  the  bankrupt  crook!  Never  mind 
him,  Sallie.  I'm  going  to  kick  him  off  the  ship  first  thing 
to-morrow  morning.  He  hasn't  a  cent  to  bless  himself 
with,  and  —  no  man  will  ever  marry  you  without  money 
to  burn,  believe  me." 

Sallie  drew  a  deep  breath  of  belated  relief.    That  load 


88  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

at  least  had  been  lifted  from  her  mind.  She  was  at  last 
free  of  the  fear  which  had  been  growing  day  by  day  as  the 
Olive  Branch  neared  port. 

A  head  and  shoulders  emerged  from  the  engine-room 
skylight  and  she  went  that  way.  It  was  Brasse,  the  chief 
engineer,  come  up  for  a  mouthful  or  two  of  fresh  air.  He 
nodded  to  Sallie. 

"  Your  friend's  all  right,"  he  told  her  in  a  low  tone. 
"  The  old  man  left  him  alone  in  the  mate's  room  till  an 
hour  ago  and  then  told  me  to  take  him  back  to  the  stoke- 
hold. He's  going  to  swim  for  it  now.  I  must  get  a  line 
let  down  - 

"  I'll  do  that,"  she  said  swiftly,  "  there  —  between  the 
two  boats.  Tell  him  where  to  look  for  it.  And  oh!  Mr. 
Brasse  —  " 

He  would  not  wait  to  be  thanked.  "  I'll  send  him  up 
right  away,  then.  The  sooner  he's  over  the  side  the  better," 
said  he,  and  so  disappeared. 

Sallie  climbed  the  rail,  and,  having  found  a  coil  of  rope 
within  one  of  the  two  life-boats  there,  was  letting  that 
gently  overside  when  another  shadow  joined  her. 

"  How  are  you  going  to  manage  after  you  get  ashore?  " 
she  asked  hurriedly  as  she  was  making  the  rope  fast. 

"  I  have  my  own  kit  in  this  water-tight  bundle,"  he 
told  her.  "  I'll  make  for  the  steps  below  those  bathing- 
houses  on  the  breakwater.  It's  only  a  short  swim." 

"  But  afterwards  ?    You'll  need  money." 

"  I  have  a  little  —  enough  to  get  along  with,  I  assure 
you.  I've  nothing  to  worry  about  —  if  I  could  only  think 
of  some  way  to  show  you  my  gratitude.  Is  there  any- 
thing at  all  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 


"You  won't  forget,"  he  urged,  grave  again. 


UNMASKED  89 

"  Are  you  sure?  "  he  insisted.  "  I  don't  want  to  presume, 
of  course,  but  -  Are  you  all  right  here,  and  quite  happy? 
What  sort  of  ship  is  this,  anyhow?  And  how  —  " 

"  Listen,  Mr.  Carthew,"  she  broke  in.  "  The  only 
thing  you  can  do  for  me  is  to  forget  all  about  me  and  the 
Olive  Branch.  And  I'd  be  very  grateful  to  you  if  you  would 
promise  - 

"  Not  to  forget  you,"  he  said.  "  I  couldn't.  But  —  all 
the  rest  I  promise." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  returned  simply.     "  And  now  - 

"  There's  no  hurry,"  he  declared.  "  We're  quite  safe 
in  here.  And  —  I'm  not  going  to  leave  you  until  you  agree 
that,  if  I  can  ever  be  of  any  service  to  you,  you  will  let 
me  know  at  once." 

"  Very  well,"  she  agreed,  to  save  time.  "  I'll  do 
that." 

"  You  know  my  name,"  he  reminded  her,  and  paused, 
frowning. 

"  But  —  that  won't  suit  either,"  he  said  to  himself 
reflectively,  "  for  more  than  a  few  weeks.  And  I'll  be  at 
your  orders  all  my  life. 

"  You  see,"  he  said,  as  if  in  apology,  "  I'm  Justin  Carthew 
just  now,  but  —  I'll  be  the  Earl  of  Jura  very  soon  after 
I  get  to  England.  And  if  you've  ever  any  use  for  me  then, 
all  you  need  do  will  be  to  send  word  to  the  Earl  of  Jura, 
in  London;  it  will  soon  find  me,  wherever  I  happen  to 
be." 

He  laughed  a  little,  and  Sallie  almost  smiled  too.  But 
he  had  spoken  quite  seriously. 

"  You  won't  forget,"  he  urged,  grave  again.  "  The 
Earl  of  Jura.  I'm  not  joking,  I  assure  you.  And,  some 
day  I  may  be  able  — 


90  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I  won't  forget,"  she  promised,  no  less  gravely,  and 
held  out  a  hand,  in  her  haste  to  get  him  safe  away. 

He  lifted  it  to  his  lips  before  letting  it  go,  and  stifled  a 
sigh,  and,  turning,  let  himself  over  the  ship's  side. 

Sallie  sighed  too,  as  she  reclimbed  the  rail  after  he  was 
safely  gone.  She  was  wondering.  .  .  . 

But  she  was  not  left  to  her  own  reflections  for  long. 
Slyne  came  on  deck,  and  had  espied  her  before  she  could 
escape. 

"  I  was  just  going  aft  to  look  for  you,"  he  told  her  in 
a  confidential  tone  which  she  did  not  like  at  all.  "  How 
about  to-morrow  morning,  Sallie?  " 

"  I  asked  Captain  Dove,  Jasper,"  she  answered  in  a  low 
voice.  "  And  he  says  — 

"  But  surely  you're  going  to  keep  your  promise  to  me!  " 
Slyne  exclaimed,  in  a  tragic  voice. 

"  How  can  I?  "  she  asked,  not  thinking  it  worth  while 
even  now  to  deny  that  she  had  made  him  any  promise  at 
all.  And  at  that  moment  Captain  Dove  emerged  from  the 
chart-house  behind. 

"  A  bargain's  a  bargain,  Slyne,"  said  he  mockingly, 
having  overheard.  "  And  Sallie  can't  keep  her  promise 
to  you  because  you  can't  come  away  with  the  ready  cash. 
So  you'd  better  say  good-bye  to  her  now,  you  won't  have 
another  chance." 


CHAPTER  IX 

AN  OVERDRAFT  ON   THE  FUTURE 

SLYNE  had  drawn  back  a  step.  One  of  his  hands  fell 
on  the  haft  of  a  flogging-hammer  that  some  one  had 
left  lying  loose  on  the  casemate  there.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  proximity  of  the  pilot,  drowsing  away  the 
time  till  morning  in  the  chart-house  behind,  he  would  most 
assuredly  have  attempted  to  knock  the  old  man  on  the 
head  with  it.  He  felt  sure  that,  but  for  Captain  Dove,  he 
could  have  managed  Sallie  now  that  Yoxall  was  out  of 
the  way.  He  stood  gnawing  savagely  at  his  lower  lip  as 
she  vanished  along  the  deck  in  the  darkness.  He  had 
taken  no  notice  at  all  of  her  timid  good-bye. 

Captain  Dove  grinned  spitefully  at  him  through  the 
gloom  of  the  small  hours.  "  You'd  better  be  off  below  and 
pack  up,"  the  old  man  suggested.  "  You'll  be  going  ashore 
as  soon  as  we  get  pratique." 

"  But  — I'll  be  back.  Give  me  time  to  turn!  "  Slyne 
snarled  at  him.  "  A  bargain's  a  bargain,  and  —  I'll  be 
back." 

"  You'd  better  not,"  Captain  Dove  advised  in  a  very 
ominous  voice,  and  went  on  his  way  below,  leaving  Slyne 
to  his  own  aggrieved,  embittered  reflections. 

To  Jasper  Slyne  the  past  few  days  had  been  like  a  fore- 
taste of  purgatory.  Captain  Dove  had  interdicted  all 
communication  with  Sallie,  and  had  proved  a  most  un- 


92  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

pleasant  companion  himself  throughout  the  unspeakably 
wearisome  passage  from  the  North-west  African  coast, 
a  passage  made  at  the  poorest  speed  of  the  ship  because 
coal  was  scarce  and  he  was  afraid  to  call  anywhere  by  the 
way  to  fill  up  his  bunkers.  Amid  the  dire  squalor  and  dis- 
comfort, the  enforced  inaction  and  loneliness  of  life  under 
such  conditions,  Slyne's  only  solace  had  been  the  hope  of 
finally  winning  Sallie,  by  fair  means  or  foul.  He  who,  in 
his  time,  had  met  and  made  love  to  so  many  charming 
adventuresses,  who  would  not  have  thought  any  more  about 
her  had  she  been  one  of  their  sort,  had  become  absolutely 
obsessed  by  ambitions  to  be  fulfilled  with  her  for  his 
wife. 

And  now  —  he  knew  that  neither  force  nor  finesse 
would  avail  him  against  Captain  Dove's  ultimatum.  He 
had  not  the  cash  to  meet  the  old  man's  demands,  and  that 
was  apparently  the  end  of  the  matter. 

Most  men,  in  Slyne's  place,  would  have  owned  themselves 
beaten  then.  But  not  so  he.  Thinking  it  all  over  again, 
he  would  admit  to  himself  no  more  than  that  he  was  for  the 
moment  baffled  by  contrary  circumstances;  circumstances 
such  as  had  been  his  lot  for  so  long  that  he  could  contem- 
plate them  almost  unmoved.  It  was  his  happy  creed  that 
in  the  very  face  of  failure  itself  one  may,  as  often  as  not,  dis- 
cern the  inspiriting  features  of  final  success.  The  dark  hour 
that  heralds  dawn  he  spent  pacing  the  cluttered  quarter- 
deck of  the  Olive  Branch  in  the  cold,  his  far-away  eyes 
always  fixed  on  the  twinkling  dock-lights,  his  almost 
bloodless  lips  straight  and  compressed  under  his  black 
moustache,  cudgelling  his  brains  for  some  safe  means  of 
immediately  obtaining  the  money  he  wanted. 

He  had  not  the  cash  to  meet  Captain  Dove's  demands. 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE    93 

But  neither  was  he  so  entirely  penniless  as  Captain  Dove 
supposed  him.  He  had  only  a  hundred  dollars  in  hand, 
but  he  had  twenty  thousand  francs  at  his  credit  in  a  French 
bank.  Many  a  millionaire  had  risen  to  affluence  from  in- 
finitely smaller  beginnings. 

But  it  would  have  been  idle  to  offer  Captain  Dove  any 
such  trifling  sum  on  account  of  the  price  he  had  set  on 
Sallie.  And,  rack  his  own  overworked  wits  as  he  would, 
Slyne  could  think  of  no  safe  plan  for  turning  his  modest 
capital  over  at  a  sufficient  profit  within  the  time  at  his 
disposal. 

"  The  only  possible  way,"  he  told  himself  finally,  his 
teeth  set,  "  the  only  possible  way  is  to  chance  my  luck  at 
those  cursed  tables  again.  Although,  God  knows  that's  a 
risk  I'd  give  up  anything  else  to  avoid.  But  —  it's  the  only 
possible  way  now,"  he  repeated  vexedly,  recalling  the  very 
excellent  reasons  he  had  for  never  showing  his  face  in  Monte 
Carlo  again. 

For,  only  a  season  or  two  before,  he  had  figured 
throughout  the  Cote  d'Azur  as  accessory  in  an  affaire 
with  which  the  whole  civilised  world  had  afterwards  rung, 
in  spite  of  every  effort  to  hush  it  up,  an  affaire  whose  tragic 
consequences  had  caused  such  a  flutter  of  scandalised 
chagrin  among  the  private  police  of  three  great  European 
powers  that  he  could  never  again  cross  their  frontiers 
without  fear.  Since  he  knew  very  well  that,  if  he  were 
ever  identified,  he  would  deservedly  disappear,  without 
any  further  fuss,  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  as  a  nameless 
cypher,  forgotten,  among  the  living  dead,  entombed  in 
some  secure  fortress.  In  that  cosmopolitan  underworld 
to  which  such  as  Slyne  belong,  occur  many  curious  in- 
cidents not  reported  in  the  newspapers,  and  the  citizens  of 


94  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Cosmopolis  have  nowhere  consul  or  minister  to  protect 
them  against  unfortunate  consequences. 

Slyne  had  no  illusions  as  to  what  his  fate  would  be  if 
he  were  recognised  on  the  Riviera. 

"  But  she's  worth  the  stake,"  he  told  himself  with  dogged 
determination,  "  even  though  it  is  life  and  liberty  as  well 
as  my  last  few  francs.  And  —  I'd  just  as  soon  be  done 
with  things  if  I  can't  capture  Sallie  from  that  old  scoundrel." 

He  knew  very  well,  of  course,  that  his  prospect  of  making 
a  financial  success  at  the  tables  was  no  less  of  a  forlorn 
hope.  But  he  had  all  a  professional  gambler's  blind  faith 
in  the  goddess  of  chance.  And  since  he  would  not  with- 
draw from  the  contest,  he  had  no  option  but  to  play  that 
losing  hazard  also. 

Day  had  broken  before  he  had  completed  his  plans. 
And  then  Captain  Dove  reappeared,  sleepy-eyed  and  un- 
shaven, to  interview  the  port-doctor. 

As  soon  as  that  functionary  had  glanced  at  the  forged  Bill 
of  Health  put  before  him  and  seen  the  crew  mustered  to 
the  tally  it  told,  the  yellow  flag  at  the  fore  was  hauled  down 
and  Captain  Dove  hailed  a  shore-boat,  to  which  he  had 
Slyne's  baggage  transferred,  and  curtly  told  Slyne  to  be 
off  ashore. 

Nor  did  Slyne  delay  to  bid  him  farewell.  Each  was 
heartily  sick  of  the  sight  of  the  other,  and  each  had  plans 
of  his  own  to  promote  in  a  hurry.  They  separated  with- 
out so  much  as  a  nod.  Sallie  was  invisible.  And  Slyne, 
in  the  boat  on  his  way  to  the  Custom-house,  only  looked 
back  once  at  the  ports  of  the  poop-cabin,  to  see,  within 
the  dingy  brass  frame  of  one,  a  face  that  seemed  to  be 
watching  him  very  thankfully  as  he  went,  a  horrible  face, 
with  blubber  lips,  almost  inhumanly  ugly,  the  face  of 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE    95 

Sallie's  devoted  attendant,  the  dumb  black  dwarf,  Ambri- 
zette. 

A  yawning  Customs'  searcher  glanced  at  his  baggage 
and  passed  it  unopened.  In  return  for  which  courtesy 
Slyne  bestowed  upon  him  a  doubtful  rix-dollar  and  a  few 
words  in  fluent  Italian  concerning  the  Olive  Branch  — 
words  which  would  not  improve  Captain  Dove's  prospects 
of  an  early  departure  from  Genoa,  but  might,  conversely, 
increase  by  a  little  his  own  scanty  time-allowance  in  that 
desperate  bout  with  fortune  to  which  he  had  committed 
himself.  He  knew  that  Captain  Dove  was  intent  on  coal- 
ing and  sailing  again  without  the  loss  of  a  minute  that  might 
be  saved. 

He  had  all  his  own  movements  mapped  out  in  anticipa- 
tion. He  drove  to  an  hotel  at  which  he  had  stayed  once 
before,  and,  after  a  Turkish  bath  and  breakfast,  went  on 
to  the  Credit  Lyonnais  office  to  cash  his  draft.  Then  he 
made  a  number  of  purchases  in  inconspicuous  shops, 
where  he  had  to  spend  a  good  deal  of  time  in  bargaining, 
looked  in  at  the  Motor-Car  Mart  &  Exchange,  where  he 
saw  a  big  touring-car  over  which  he  argued  for  some  min- 
utes with  the  salesman;  and,  after  a  belated  but  liberal 
lunch  in  a  first-class  restaurant,  he  turned  back  toward  the 
sale-room. 

A  man  in  an  elaborate  chauffeur's  uniform,  and  evidently 
English,  stopped  him  in  the  street  outside,  to  ask  whether 
he  would  care  to  buy  a  gold  cigarette-case,  a  bargain. 
Slyne  looked  him  over,  and  sized  him  up  at  a  glance. 

"  Stranded?  "  he  asked,  and  the  man  nodded  sulkily. 

"  Want  a  few  days'  work?  " 

The  chauffeur's  dissipated  face  brightened. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  do." 


96  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  Wait  here,  then,"  said  Slyne,  and  went  inside. 

"  Well,"  he  asked  the  salesman,  "  have  you  thought  it 
over?  What's  the  last  word?  " 

"  Fifteen  thousand  lire,  milor  —  not  a  soldo  less,"  de- 
clared the  dapper,  frock-coated  salesman,  in  a  tone  of 
final  decision  which  Slyne's  sharp  ears  judged  unfeigned. 
"  The  car  is  worth  twice  as  much.  Indeed,  I  could  not 
let  it  go  at  such  a  ruinous  loss  were  it  not  —  But,  ecco! 
The  owner  himself.  He  would  probably  be  very  ill  pleased 
to*  hear  it  was  actually  sold  at  that  ridiculous  price." 

Slyne  looked  round  at  the  grey-haired,  portly,  prosperous- 
looking  individual  threading  his  way  through  the  agglomer- 
ation of  cars  in  the  background,  and  his  half-parted  lips 
snapped  together  again. 

He  wanted  that  particular  car  and  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  buy  it,  rash  though  such  an  investment  might  prove, 
but  he  had  surmised  from  a  lynx-like  glance  at  the  seller 
that  he  might  be  able  to  get  it  for  even  less  than  the  sales- 
man was  authorised  to  accept.  And,  since  his  own  pockets 
were  so  poorly  lined  for  the  expensive  part  he  was  playing. 
he,  who  despised  chaffering,  was  yet  bent  on  making  the 
very  best  bargain  he  could. 

"  It's  more  than  I've  got  about  me,"  he  told  the  sales- 
man in  a  very  audible  voice,  as  the  fat  man  in  the  fur  coat 
halted  indeterminately  a  few  paces  away.  And  at  the 
words  the  new-comer's  puffy  face  lighted  up,  as  if  with 
relief,  behind  the  pince-nez  he  was  wearing.  He  came  for- 
ward and  spoke. 

"  An  Englishman,  by  Jove!  "  he  remarked  with  a  great 
semblance  of  geniality.  "  So  am  I.  Very  happy  to  meet 
you,  sir.  You're  interested  in  my  car?  " 

"  Not  at  the  price,"  Slyne  returned,  with  an  indifferent 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE    97 

hauteur  which  he  judged  likely  to  be  effective  with  one  in 
the  stranger's  presumable  plight.  And  the  fat  man's  lips 
drooped  visibly,  the  pouches  under  his  uneasy  eyes  became 
more  marked.  He  was  obviously  disappointed,  and  felt 
himself  snubbed.  He  did  not  seem  quite  sure  what  to  say 
or  do  next. 

Slyne,  congratulating  himself  on  his  talent  for  character 
reading,  turned  away,  to  look  at  a  cheap  runabout,  as 
carelessly  as  though  he  had  all  time  at  his  disposal,  in- 
stead of  being,  as  he  was,  in  a  fever  of  ill-restrained  im- 
patience. The  salesman  figuratively  washed  his  hands  of 
them  both;  he  could  already  foresee  a  forced  sale  at  a 
calamitous  sacrifice.  And  so  it  fell  out. 

Slyne,  cavalier  to  the  verge  of  rudeness,  finally  bought 
the  big  scarlet  car,  which  the  other  almost  forced  upon 
him,  for  about  half  its  market  value,  and  paid  for  it  there 
and  then,  in  the  new  French  notes  which  had  almost  been 
burning  a  hole  in  his  pocket  since  he  had  left  the  Credit 
Lyonnais  office  —  so  eager  was  he  to  be  off  on  his  last  for- 
lorn hope  of  winning  Sallie. 

"  If  you  had  allowed  me  only  a  few  hours  longer,  I 
could  have  got  you  twice  that  amount,"  said  the  disap- 
pointed salesman  in  a  stage  aside  to  the  seller  as  he  counted 
over  his  own  diminished  commission.  But  the  fat  man 
merely  bestowed  on  him  a  look  of  contemptuous  annoyance, 
and,  having  signed  the  receipt  Slyne  required,  tucked  away 
in  an  empty  pocket-book  the  balance  of  the  crisply-rustling 
bills  he  had  just  received. 

Even  then  he  did  not  appear  to  know  what  next  to  do 
with  himself.  For,  having  glanced  at  his  watch,  he  gave 
vent  to  a  grunt  of  disgust,  and  hung  on  his  heel  undecidedly, 
after  making  a  move  to  go. 


98  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  It's  only  about  a  hundred  miles  to  Monaco,  isn't  it?  " 
Slyne  asked  the  salesman;  and  was  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative. 

The  fat  man  gasped  and  choked  for  a  moment,  and  then 
spoke  again,  with  more  confidence:  a  change  due,  perhaps, 
to  the  improvement  in  his  finances. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  he,  "  but  —  if  you're  going  that 
way,  I  wonder  —  It  would  be  a  most  tremendous  favour 
to  me,  and  I  haven't  haggled  over  giving  you  the  best  of 
our  bargain.  The  train's  just  gone,  and  —  " 

Slyne,  chin  in  air,  once  more  looked  him  over  apprais- 
ingly,  as  he  stammered  and  hesitated;  and  was  very  much 
disposed  to  cut  him  adrift  without  more  ado.  But  some 
indefinable  impulse,  some  feeling  that  here  was  a  bird  of  a 
feather  very  sadly  astray,  caused  him  to  alter  his  mind. 
"  I'll  be  glad  to  give  you  a  lift,"  he  said,  more  graciously, 
"  if  you're  ready  to  start  now.  But  I  can't  wait." 

The  fat  man's  face  lighted  up  again.  "  My  luck's  on 
the  mend  at  last!  "  he  declared.  "  I'm  in  as  great  a  hurry 
as  you  can  be,  sir.  I'm  more  than  obliged  to  you  for  your 
courtesy.  May  I  offer  you  my  card?  " 

Slyne  glanced  at  the  slip  of  pasteboard  conferred  upon 
him  while  the  car  was  being  shifted  out  of  the  showroom 
into  the  street,  where  his  elaborate  chauffeur  was  in  waiting. 
And,  "  Jump  in,  Mr.  Jobling,"  he  requested  with  uncon- 
cealed coldness  as  he  himself  took  the  wheel,  relegating 
the  chauffeur  to  a  back  seat.  It  ruffled  his  self-satisfied 
mood  of  the  moment  more  than  a  little  to  learn  that  the 
fat  man  in  the  fur  coat  was  in  fact  a  London  solicitor. 
With  the  law  in  any  shape  or  form  Jasper  Slyne  wanted 
nothing  whatever  to  do,  and  especially  at  such  a  juncture. 
He  was  already  repenting  his  ill-timed  politeness. 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE    99 

However,  he  could  not  very  well  rid  himself  of  his  pas- 
senger then.  All  he  could  do  was  to  dash  through  the  busy 
streets  of  Genoa  in  the  dusk  at  a  pace  calculated  to  make 
the  hair  of  any  respectable  and  self-respecting  solicitor 
stand  on  end.  But,  out  of  the  corner  of  one  eye,  he  observed 
that  Mr.  Jobling  was  wearing  a  blandly  contented  smile. 

That  gentleman  did  not  seem  so  well  pleased,  however, 
as  they  turned  uphill  into  the  Via  Roma,  and  Slyne,  under- 
standing, relented  a  little  again.  "  I  have  some  baggage 
at  the  Isotta,"  he  volunteered,  and  the  cloud  at  once  lifted 
from  Mr.  Jobling's  brow. 

Several  assiduous  porters  stowed  hastily  in  the  tonneau, 
beside  the  ornamental  chauffeur,  the  travel-worn  trunks 
and  suit-cases  which  Slyne  had  left  there  that  morning, 
and  stood  at  the  salute  till  he  drove  away,  when  they  no 
doubt  returned  to  their  lairs  to  count  the  profits  of  such 
politeness.  He  had,  as  usual,  been  very  lavish  with  his 
small  change.  And  his  passenger  was  also  impressed  by 
his  liberality. 

Meanwhile  the  car  was  negotiating  more  carefully  the 
lumpy  patchwork  with  which  the  old  Via  Carlo  Alberto 
is  paved,  and  Mr.  Jobling's  puffy  features  spoke  his  dis- 
content over  its  slow  progress.  But,  once  beyond  Sampier- 
darena,  clear  of  close  traffic,  on  the  open  road  to  Savona, 
Slyne  made  more  speed;  and  it  was  self-evident  that  he 
knew  how  to  get  the  most  out  of  his  horse-power. 

He  looked,  indeed,  —  if  looks  go  for  anything  nowadays, 
—  quite  at  home,  very  much  in  his  element,  lying  lazily 
back  in  the  driver's  seat  of  the  richly-appointed  car  which 
had  been  his  companion's  an  hour  before.  It  was  late  on 
a  winter  afternoon,  and  what  wind  there  was  had  a  chill 
in  it,  caught,  no  doubt,  in  crossing  the  Apennines.  But 


100  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Slyne  also  was  wearing  a  heavy  fur  coat  and  had  pulled 
on  a  pair  of  gauntlets  at  the  hotel. 

As  the  car  rocked  and  swayed  on  its  rapid  way  through 
the  last  outskirts  of  Savona,  he  was  humming  light-heart- 
edly to  himself  the  antique  aria  of  The  Man  who  Broke  the 
Bank  at  Monte  Carlo. 

"  Been  gambling  a  bit?  "  he  presently  asked  his  silent 
companion.  And  Mr.  Jobling  admitted  the  soft  impeach- 
ment. 

"  And  no  luck,"  Slyne  inferred  amusedly.  He  could  view 
with  an  equable  eye  the  misfortunes  of  others  as  well  as 
his  own;  especially  since  the  stout  solicitor's  losses  had 
brought  his  own  way  such  a  substantial  profit  as  could  be 
readily  realised  by  the  re-sale  of  his  car. 

"  No  luck  at  all,"  Mr.  Jobling  affirmed  explosively, 
and  the  troubles  fermenting  in  his  mind  at  length  found 
outlet  in  speech.  "  I  wouldn't  have  believed  anyone  could 
have  been  so  unlucky!  "  he  declared  with  great  bitterness; 
"  and  at  such  a  critical  moment.  I  want  so  little,  too; 
I've  no  ambition  to  break  the  bank.  It  wasn't  with  any 
such  foolish  idea  that  /  came  to  Monte  Carlo.  I  wouldn't 
have  had  this  happen  for  all  the  bank  holds." 

"  Which  isn't  a  great  deal,"  commented  Slyne.  "  I've 
broken  the  bank  more  than  once  myself,  and  lost  twice 
as  much  the  next  evening." 

'  You  play  some  system,  perhaps? "  his  companion 
inquired,  but  Slyne  shook  his  head  reminiscently.  "  I've 
tried  several  myself,  but  none  seemed  to  be  of  the  slightest 
use.  And  now-  It  doesn't  matter,  of  course.  I  didn't 
come  to  Monaco  to  make  money;  I'm  not  such  a  fool! 
But  it,'s  most  infernally  inconvenient  .  .  .  may  cost  me 
my  chance  of  a  fortune  .  .  .  practically  within  my  grasp." 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE        101 

His  voice  had  died  away  to  a  mere  mutter.  Slyne  was 
smiling  in  disdain. 

"  But  I  can't  go  on  losing  at  the  tables  for  ever,"  he 
exploded  again.  "  My  turn  must  come.  I  feel  in  better 
fettle  this  evening  —  as  if  my  luck  had  changed.  It's 
no  doubt  since  I  met  you;  I  must  thank  you  again  for  this 
lift.  If  I'd  had  to  wait  in  Genoa  for  the  slow  train,  I  might 
have  got  back  too  late  to  take  the  tide  at  the  flood.  I'm 
a  great  believer,  you  know,  in  striking  while  the  iron's 
hot." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Slyne  dryly,  and  much  amused  by  his 
monologue. 

"  I'm  sure  my  luck's  on  the  mend,"  Mr.  Jobling  went 
on,  growing  still  more  communicative  under  encourage- 
ment, "  and  the  mere  matter  of  winning  a  few  thousand 
francs  is  nothing  to  what  will  follow  —  what  must  follow. 
I've  made  up  my  mind  to  win  all  along  the  line;  and  there's 
a  great  deal  in  the  theory  that,  if  you  apply  sufficient  will- 
power to  any  project,  its  success  is  assured.  I'm  ab-so- 
lutely  determined  to  win  fifty  thousand  francs  to-night, 
and  then  ...  I  fancy  it  was  a  mistake  to  come  here  at 
all.  .  .  .  But,  of  course,  a  man  who  never  makes  a  mistake 
will  never  make  anything.  .  .  .  I'll  go  straight  back  to 
London,  and  surely,  among  the  five  or  six  million  people 
there.  .  .  . 

"  Look  out!    Good  —  God!  " 

Between  his  two  excited  ejaculations  Slyne  had  outwitted 
calamity.  Taking  a  rash  curve  at  top  speed,  he  had  come 
to  an  unexpected  rectangle  in  the  roadway  running  almost 
parallel  there  with  the  shore  below,  and,  rounding  that 
corner  safely  with  a  quick  wrench  of  the  wheel,  had  almost 
crashed  .into  a  heavy,  high-built  ox- wagon  which  was 


102  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

backing  blindly  out  from  some  steep,  hidden  side-lane. 
The  hubs  of  the  car's  wheels  had  all  but  grazed  the  parapet 
of  the  roadway  at  Mr.  Jobling's  side,  and  Slyne,  on  the 
other,  had  barely  escaped  being  brained  by  the  timbers 
protruding  from  the  rear  of  the  wagon.  The  ornamental 
chauffeur  was  fast  asleep  in  the  tonneau  behind. 

Mr.  Jobling  lay  back  and  gasped  while  Slyne  held  on  as 
if  nothing  had  happened,  at  the  same  breakneck  pace. 
But  neither  spoke  again  for  some  time. 

Through  village  after  village  they  dashed,  always  at 
grave  risk  and  yet  without  accident.  The  moon  rose  just 
before  they  reached  Alassio.  Slyne  even  managed  to  im- 
prove the  pace  a  little  then,  and  his  passenger  made  no 
protest,  but  sat  with  eyes  downcast,  his  lips  always  moving 
mutely. 

"  A  slight  overdraft  on  the  future  —  it's  no  more  than 
that,"  remarked  Mr.  Jobling  a  little  later,  as  if  he  had  been 
alone,  and  Slyne  looked  round  at  him  for  an  instant,  with 
nostrils  curled  in  a  faint,  superior  smile. 

Slyne  thought  he  could  guess  some  part  at  least  of  the 
troubles  afflicting  his  chance  acquaintance,  and  was  very 
little  inclined  to  hear  more  about  them.  He  was  too  busy 
considering  his  own  plan  of  campaign,  the  blood  in  his 
own  veins  was  running  too  briskly  under  the  stimulus 
of  that  wild  flight  through  the  keen  night  air,  to  waste 
any  time  or  thought  on  another  man's  worries.  But  —  a 
fellow-feeling  makes  us  wondrous  kind.  "  Cheer  up!  " 
said  he  suddenly.  "  Every  one  overdraws  more  or  less 
on  his  luck,  at  one  time  or  another.  If  that's  all  you've 
done,  it's  nothing  to  mope  about." 

Mr.  Jobling  sat  up  with  a  start,  and  stared  at  him. 
"  That's  all,"  he  asserted,  a  little  too  hurried  in  his  as- 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE   103 

surance.  "  I  give  you  my  word,  sir.  .  .  ."  And  then  he 
recollected  himself  and  laughed  uncomfortably,  confused. 

"  I've  been  thinking  aloud,"  said  he.  "  But  you  mustn't 
take  any  notice  of  that.  It's  a  bad  habit  of  mine.  And,  as 
you  say,  we  all  overdraw  on  the  future,  from  time  to  time. 
As  a  man  of  the  world,  sir,  you'll  understand  what  I  mean 
to  convey  to  you.  And  of  course  these  little  overdrafts 
are  always  met  when  they're  due. 

"  What  a  fine  night  this  is  for  a  fast  spin!  " 

"  What's  the  nature  of  your  present  overdraft?  "  Slyne 
inquired  perversely,  safe  in  the  certainty  that  the  other 
could  not  resent  that  rudeness,  and  was  again  amused  by 
Mr.  Jobling's  cough  of  discomfiture. 

But,  "  Purely  metaphorical,"  that  gentleman  countered 
cleverly.  "  We'll  soon  be  in  San  Remo  at  this  rate.  I 
wouldn't  wonder  if  we've  established  a  record.  It  isn't 
every  day  there's  such  a  car  in  the  market." 

"  No,  it  isn't,"  Slyne  agreed.  "  Nor  a  buyer  for  it." 
And  conversation  languished  again. 

But  Slyne's  spirits,  none  the  less,  were  steadily  rising 
as  he  drew  nearer,  mile  by  mile,  to  the  chief  temple  of 
that  goddess  of  chance  to  whom  he  looked  to  befriend 
him  now  —  since  it  was  not  on  his  own  behalf  alone  that 
he  was  seeking  her  shrine,  since  mischance  must  entail  con- 
sequences so  dire  to  Sallie  as  well  as  to  him.  The  personal 
risk  he  was  running  lent  added  zest  to  the  piquancy  of  his 
most  unusual  position  as  a  champion  of  maidenhood  in 
distress.  And  what  Sallie's  fate  would  be  if  his  own  luck 
failed  him,  he  could  picture  in  vivid  detail  from  his  own 
experience  of  a  world  most  men  know  nothing  about. 

Within  a  few  days  the  Olive  Branch,  with  a  supply  of 
cheap  coal  and  some  makeshift  repairs,  would  be  gone  from 


104  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Genoa,  leaving  behind  no  trace  but  such  bills  as  Captain 
Dove  could  escape  without  paying.  She  would  enter  Port 
Said  and  leave  Suez  in  some  effective  disguise  and  under 
another  assumed  name  which  would  last  her  through  the 
Straits  of  Bab-el-Mandeb;  beyond  which  she  would  dis- 
appear, perhaps  for  good,  into  whatever  strange  world  she 
might  raise  over  the  mysterious  sea-rim  which  lies  beyond 
"  the  Gate  of  the  Place  of  Tears." 

Captain  Dove  was  an  old  man  already.  And  even  he 
could  not  for  ever  go  on  living  such  a  life  as  he  led.  He  had 
spoken  of  this  trip  East  as  his  last,  and  it  was  his  avowed 
object  in  it  to  turn  Sallie  to  some  account.  Slyne,  who,  as 
you  will  perhaps  suppose,  was  no  squeamish  moralist, 
sickened  at  thought  of  what  time  might  still  have  in  store 
for  the  girl. 

"  Just  imagine  her,'1  said  he  to  himself,  "  cooped  up  in 
some  slat-eyed  Chinaman's  filthy  yamen  till  she  grows  grey, 
or  eating  her  heart  out  in  some  coffee-coloured  sultan's 
clay  palace,  with  nothing  to  comfort  her  but  a  crooked 
brass  crown  —  and  not  even  that  by  and  by.  It's 
damnable  to  think  —  But  what's  the  use  of  thinking  about 
it!  I'm  going  to  save  her  from  all  that  —  in  spite  of  her- 
self." And  his  selfishly  sentimental  mood  of  the  moment 
once  more  gave  place  to  a  philosophic  contentment  with 
things  as  they  were,  and  that  in  turn  to  an  exhilarating 
anticipation  of  pleasures  to  come. 

The  lights  of  San  Remo  looked  very  alluring  to  him, 
who  had  for  so  long  spent  his  nights  at_sea  with  no  more 
companionable  illuminant  than  a  reeking  kerosene  lamp 
or  the  cold,  aloof  stars.  He  became  jocular,  in  a  lofty  way, 
with  the  always  impatient  Jobling,  and  at  the  frontier 
was  so  patronisingly  polite  to  the  officials  there  that  they 


AN  OVERDRAFT  ON  THE  FUTURE        105 

let  him  pass  almost  at  once,  under  the  apparent  impression 
that  he  was  some  personage  of  importance  —  a  circumstance 
which  lent  him  a  little  additional  self-confidence. 

From  Men  ton  Garavan  in  to  Monte  Carlo  is  only  some 
seven  miles.  And  for  that  short  distance  he  sat  silent, 
once  more  mentally  reviewing  the  manifold  chances  of 
mischance  ahead  of  him.  While  Mr.  Jobling,  beside  him, 
continued  to  mumble  and  mutter  at  intervals  of  misfortune 
—  no  fault  of  his  own  —  and  fortune,  that  marvellous 
fortune  which  was  to  be  his  so  soon,  since  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  that  it  must. 

"  I'm  absolutely  determined"  said  Mr.  Jobling,  uncon- 
sciously raising  his  voice  again.  "  Eh?  What?  Oh,  yes. 
I  beg  your  pardon.  I  have  a  room  at  the  Metropole. 
Where  are  you  going  to  put  up?  " 

"  I  always  stay  at  the  Paris,"  Slyne  lied  easily.  He  had 
no  inclination  for  any  more  of  his  companion's  society, 
especially  while  he  had  no  idea  how  he  himself  might  be 
received  at  any  hotel  in  the  Principality. 

"  I'll  walk  on  from  here,   then,  if  you'll  allow  me," 
suggested   that  gentleman.     "  And  —  er  —  by   the  way, 
you  won't  be  mentioning  to  anyone  the  circumstances  - 
er  —  about  the  car." 

"  We'll  let  it  be  understood  that  I  bought  it  in  London  — 
last  month,"  said  Slyne,  ready  to  be  obliging  since  it 
would  be  for  his  own  benefit;  and,  cutting  short  with  a 
curt  "  Good  night  "  some  further  profuse  expressions  of 
gratitude  on  the  part  of  his  passenger,  glad,  indeed,  to 
be  so  well  quit  of  him,  drove  on  in  more  state,  his  sleepy 
chauffeur  in  the  seat  vacated  by  Mr.  Jobling,  to  make  his 
next  move  in  that  desperate  game  in  which  he  was  going 
to  stake  life  and  liberty  also  on  the  infinitesimal  chance  of 


106  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

returning  triumphant  to  Genoa  to  claim  Sallie  from  Captain 
Dove. 

For,  "  If  they  spot  me,  I'll  blow  out  my  brains  before 
tney  can  lay  hands  on  me,"  said  he  to  himself  as  he  drew 
up  with  an  imperative  honk-honk-honk!  before  the  Hotel 
de  Paris. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   GODDESS   OF  CHANCE 

IF  you  have  ever  had  to  walk  unconcernedly  into  the 
crowded  vestibule  of  a  fashionable  hotel,  not  knowing 
at  what  moment  you  might  be  identified  and  arrested 
as  a  notorious  criminal,  you  will  no  doubt  understand,  and, 
perhaps,  sympathise  with  Slyne's  state  of  mind  as  he  en- 
tered the  Hotel  de  Paris.  If  not,  you  can  at  least  imagine 
how  he  felt  as  he  made  his  way  through  the  throng  toward 
the  bureau,  grimly  conscious  of  every  inquisitive  glance. 

There  was  little  enough  to  shield  him  from  immediate 
detection,  beyond  the  flight  of  time  and  the  facts  that  he 
had  been  wearing  a  beard  and  living  under  a  French  alias 
—  or,  as  he  would  have  preferred  to  put  it,  incognito  — 
when,  only  a  season  or  two  before,  he  had  earned  such  un- 
desired  and  undesirable  distinction  throughout  the  Cote 
d'Azur.  And  he  knew  very  well  what  his  fate  would  be  if 
he  were  recognised. 

He  was  very  devoutly  thankful,  therefore,  when,  having 
safely  run  the  gauntlet  of  all  those  argus  eyes  which  had 
seemed  to  be  searching  his  by  the  way,  he  found  himself 
installed  hi  an  ornate  apartment  vacated  only  that  morn- 
ing by  a  grand  duke. 

"  I  can't  afford  to  do  things  by  halves  now!  "  he  had  re- 
flected, shrugging  his  shoulders,  as  he  had  agreed  with  the 
manager,  who  happened  to  be  on  the  spot,  that  the  suite 


108  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

in  question  would  probably  serve  his  turn.  And  even  the 
manager  had  been  impressed  by  his  manner  —  and  his 
fine  car. 

"  So  far,  so  good,  then,"  said  Slyne  to  himself  with  a 
somewhat  nervous  grimace,  as  he  crossed  to  the  window 
of  his  sitting-room  and  looked  out  over  the  moonlit  bay, 
after  tossing  his  keys  to  a  valet  with  a  curt  order  to  lose 
no  time.  "  And  now  —  I  must  go  on  as  I've  begun.  But 
- 1  can't  help  wishing  I  were  well  through  with  it  all.  I 
didn't  half  like  the  way  that  clerk  watched  me  with  his 
mouth  wide  open  —  and  /  knew  him  all  right!  " 

No  one  could  have  appeared  more  care-free,  however, 
than  he  when,  an  hour  later,  he  left  his  dressing-room, 
ready  to  face  —  and  outface  —  the  detective  talent  he  still 
must  meet,  and  sauntered  very  much  at  his  leisure,  a  ciga- 
rette between  his  tight  lips,  in  the  direction  of  the  table 
d'hote. 

"  Seems  pretty  dull  here,"  he  commented,  after  an  in- 
different inspection  of  the  elaborate  company  there.  "  I've 
a  good  mind  to  go  on  to  Giro's  —  and  find  out  if  they  have 
forgotten  my  face  by  now  too.  I  won't  have  any  peace  of 
mind  till  I've  been  all  round  the  old  place."  In  pursuit  of 
which  bold  policy  he  sent  a  page  for  his  coat  and  hat,  and 
stood  displaying  himself  to  the  general  public  till  they 
arrived. 

He  found  Giro's  well  filled,  as  usual,  when  he  strolled  in, 
taking  with  perfect  outward  calm  the  risk  that  he  might 
be  remembered  there.  But  no  hostile  glance  met  his  roving 
eye  as  he  entered  the  restaurant.  He  was  obsequiously 
received  by  an  observant  head-waiter,  and  shown  to  a  table 
which  suited  his  immediate  needs  to  a  nicety. 

Among  the  more  ebullient  gathering  in  that  gay  resort 


THE  GODDESS  OF  CHANCE  109 

he  could  discover  no  cause  for  alarm.  And  no  one  took  any 
special  notice  of  him  until,  among  some  still  later  comers, 
he  noticed  a  haggardly  handsome  woman,  in  a  gown  so 
scant  that  she  might  well  have  been  glad  of  the  great  bunch 
of  camellias  she  wore  at  her  breast,  who  was  pointing  him 
out  to  one  of  the  two  men  in  her  company. 

Slyne's  heart  almost  stopped  beating  at  that,  and  one  of 
his  hands  involuntarily  slipped  round  to  where,  in  a  padded 
pocket  within  the  arm-hole  of  his  thin  evening-coat,  he  had 
a  little  double-barrelled  pistol  concealed. 

He  caught  the  woman's  eye  again  while  she  was  whisper- 
ing volubly  to  the  attentive  listener  at  her  elbow,  a  fashion- 
ably foolish-looking  young  man  of  a  stamp  whose  appear- 
ance is  sometimes  deceitful,  and  wondered  sickly  what  was 
coming  as  that  individual,  having  looked  him  over  quite 
openly  and  with  the  aid  of  an  eye-glass,  rose  and  approached 
him  across  the  room. 

He  glanced  up  in  admirably  assumed  surprise,  however, 
for  all  answer  to  the  other's  gruffly  casual,  "  Good  evenin', 
sir. 

"  Will  you  excuse  my  askin'  whether  you'd  care  to  sell 
the  car  I  saw  you  drivin'  past  in,  an  hour  ago?  "  inquired 
the  stranger,  quite  unabashed.  "  Because  —  I  want  it, 
don't  y'know." 

Slyne's  face  remained  an  immobile  mask,  although  in  his 
heart  he  was  dully  conscious  of  an  almost  overwhelming 
sense  of  relief. 

"  It  isn't  for  sale  at  the  moment,"  he  answered,  suavely 
enough,  but  as  if  a  little  offended. 

"  But  —  I  want  it,"  reiterated  the  stranger,  who  did  not 
seem  to  lack  a  sufficient  sense  of  his  own  importance. 
"  And  I'll  give  you  practically  your  own  price  for  it.  It's 


110  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

for  a  lady,  don't  y'know  —  and  as  a  favour  to  me, 
eh?" 

"  I'd  be  very  glad  to  oblige  you,"  said  Slyne,  elated  be- 
yond expression  to  find  not  only  that  his  fears  had  been 
groundless,  that  his  visitor  was  really  a  fool  and  not  a  knave 
in  disguise,  but  also  that,  if  he  played  his  own  cards  prop- 
erly, he  might  pocket  a  still  fatter  profit  upon  his  car  than 
he  had  anticipated,  "  but  —  I  can't  at  the  moment.  Are 
you  going  to  be  here  for  a  few  days?  " 

"  I'm  at  the  Cap  Martin  for  a  week.  As  soon  as  you 
change  your  mind  you  can  come  over  an'  see  me  there. 
Ask  for  Lord  Ingoldsby.  Good  evenin'  to  you,"  answered 
his  visitor  with  all  the  sulky  insolence  of  a  spoiled  child; 
and  slouched  back  to  his  own  table,  where,  Slyne  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing,  he  had  to  endure  a  rating  from  his 
enchantress  for  his  ill-success  on  her  errand.  And  Slyne 
almost  smiled. 

For  he  knew  the  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  quite  well,  by 
repute  at  least,  as  an  English  pigeon  with  feathers  well 
worth  the  plucking,  and  set  the  other  two  down  for  what 
they  were,  a  pair  of  those  hawks  to  be  found  hovering 
wherever  the  simple  pigeon  would  try  its  wings.  He  be- 
came contemplatively  interested  in  the  trio,  although  he 
knew  the  ways  of  that  wicked  world  far  too  well  to  suppose 
for  an  instant  that  he  would  be  allowed  to  make  a  quar- 
tette of  it. 

"  But  you  shall  have  your  car,  madame,"  he  soliloquised, 
"  presently,  when  I'm  finished  with  it.  And,  in  exchange, 
I'll  take  —  " 

"  If  only  I  had  Sallie  here  now  —  "  he  said  to  himself  with 
sudden  self-pity,  and  then  was  seized  with  a  hot  contempt 
for  all  such  as  the  noble  marquis.  "  But  no  one  under  a 


royalty  need  hope  for  an  introduction  to  her  then/'  he 
finished,  and  so  stifled  an  inconvenient  twinge  of 
conscience. 

"  In  the  meantime  it  looks  to  me  as  if  my  little  overdraft 
on  the  future  is  going  to  pay  me  most  handsomely,"  he  re- 
flected. And  that  happy  thought  added  zest  to  his  appetite 
for  the  excellent  dinner  his  waiter  had  ordered  for  him,  the 
first  good  dinner  to  which  he  had  sat  down  hi  endless 
months. 

He  had  given  the  man  carte  blanche  in  the  matter  of 
viands,  only  reserving  the  choice  of  what  he  should  drink. 
So  that  when  he  ordered  Vichy  the  waiter  was  not  unduly 
depressed.  Slyne  also  would  have  preferred  to  see  a  silver 
bucket  beside  the  table,  a  pursy  gold  neck  protruding  from 
it,  but  he  wanted  all  his  wits  about  him  that  evening,  while 
he  was  once  more  pitting  himself,  alone,  against  all  comers 
in  Monte  Carlo  —  and,  incidentally,  against  the  odds  in 
favour  of  the  bank,  on  which  he  hoped  to  draw  to  the  tune 
of  at  least  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  during  the  next  few 
days.  He  knew,  of  expensive  experience,  that  the  Widow 
Clicquot  and  her  charming  companions  are  safer  society 
after  a  dangerous  campaign  is  over  than  just  before  it 
begins. 

He  would  not  even  venture  upon  an  after-dinner  cigar, 
contenting  himself  with  a  cigarette  from  the  plain  gold  case 
with  a  crest  on  it  which  he  purchased  from  the  chauffeur 
he  had  so  providentially  picked  up  in  Genoa  that  after- 
noon. But  he  tipped  the  waiter  with  such  profusion  that 
the  man  preceded  him  to  the  door  bent  almost  double  with 
gratitude,  and  even  the  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  was  star- 
ingly  impressed  by  the  magnificence  of  his  exit  —  as  Slyne 
had  intended  he  should  be. 


112  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

\ 

His  masterly  impersonation  of  an  unostentatious  mil- 
lionaire was  not  without  its  effect  on  the  flunkeys  of  the 
Casino  also.  These  made  as  much  of  his  entrance  as  he  in 
his  assumed  modesty  would  allow  on  his  way  into  the  salles 
de  jeu,  where  he  attracted  not  a  few  appraising,  inquisitive 
glances  while  he  once  more  dared  discovery  as  he  roamed 
from  table  to  table,  gazing  about  him  as  though  that  had 
really  been  his  first  visit  there.  The  world  and  the  half- 
world  alike  seemed  to  be  wondering  who  he  might  be;  a 
circumstance  which,  otherwise,  would  have  caused  him 
ecstatic  pleasure. 

It  has  been  stated  already  that  he  was  more  than  passably 
good-looking,  with  regular  profile  and  straight,  spare,  ele- 
gant figure.  In  evening  clothes  which  fitted  him  to  per- 
fection, neither  over-groomed  nor  untidy  in  any  detail, 
without  a  flaw  for  the  most  fastidious  to  pick  in  either 
appearance  or  manner,  he  seemed  to  bear  some  stamp  of 
distinction  which  might  very  well  have  passed  current  in 
circles  much  more  exclusive. 

The  rooms  were  well  filled,  although  the  really  fashion- 
able world  had  just  begun  to  flock  south  for  the  winter.  The 
usual  motley  went  to  make  up  the  highly-coloured  mosaic 
of  worshippers  at  the  chief  shrine  of  the  goddess  of  chance. 
It  would  be  a  waste  of  your  time  and  mine,  too,  to  describe 
again  the  types  to  be  observed  there,  and  Slyne  had  seen 
them  all  very  often  before.  He  sauntered  about  for  a  little 
and  then  slipped  quietly  into  the  only  seat  which  had  been 
vacated  since  he  had  arrived,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  a 
short,  fat  Frenchman  who  seemed  disposed  to  insist  on  his 
own  prior  claim  to  it,  till  Slyne  glanced  over  one  shoulder 
into  his  eyes. 

"  Good  luck  to  you!  "  cried  a  jovial  voice  from  the  other 


THE  GODDESS  OF  CHANCE  113 

side  of  the  table  as  he  sat  down,  and  Slyne  nodded  coldly 
to  his  companion  of  the  afternoon. 

He  did  not  desire  Mr.  Jobling's  further  acquaintance, 
and  would  have  ignored  his  greeting  entirely  but  that  he 
had  noticed  in  front  of  the  stout  solicitor  quite  a  noteworthy 
stack  of  winnings;  and  he  did  not  know  whether  he  might 
not  yet  have  occasion  to  draw  on  the  other's  expressed 
ambition  to  repay  him  a  favour  done.  In  any  case,  he  dis- 
missed all  such  ideas  from  his  mind  for  the  moment,  and 
started  to  play,  very  cautiously. 

A  cautious  player,  who  can  keep  his  head,  need  seldom 
lose  a  great  deal  at  any  game.  Slyne  had  drunk  nothing 
stronger  than  Vichy  since  the  night  before.  He  was  tensely 
on  the  alert.  His  luck  came  and  went  until  he  had  lost  a 
couple  of  thousand  francs,  and  then  he  began  to  win. 

He  had  been  winning,  slowly  but  surely,  with  only  an 
occasional  set-back,  for  over  an  hour  before  he  became 
aware  that  a  growing  group  of  interested  onlookers  had 
gathered  behind  him,  and  that  he  had  accumulated  within 
the  space  between  his  protective  elbows  a  pile  of  notes  and 
gold  which  reached  to  his  chin.  And,  thus  convinced  that 
he  was  in  the  vein,  spurred  on  by  some  sudden  remembrance 
of  Sallie  caged  in  her  cabin  on  the  Olive  Branch,  an  ever- 
present  temptation  to  play  to  the  gallery,  to  stake  no  less 
Vthan  the  maximum  on  every  turn  of  the  wheel,  had  almost 
vanquished  all  his  discretion  when  he  encountered  the  quiet 
glance  of  a  man  who  was  contemplating  him  from  behind 
the  players  seated  at  the  other  side  of  the  table,  a  man  whom 
he  knew  only  too  well  as  one  of  the  cleverest  of  those  mou- 
chards  whose  frequent  comings  and  goings  attract  so  little 
attention  there,  and  who  knew  him. 

The  brilliant  lights  about  him  grew  strangely  blurred. 


114  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

He  felt  faint  and  ill.  But,  by  a  desperate  effort  of  will,  he 
managed  to  maintain  an  outward  composure.  He  yawned 
openly,  and  then  let  his  eyes  fall  to  look  at  his  watch.  The 
detective  was  carelessly  moving  round  the  table  in  his  di- 
rection. He  shifted  his  rake  to  his  left  hand  and,  slipping 
his  right  across  his  chest  to  within  the  lapel  of  his  evening- 
coat,  laid  out  some  small  further  stake,  entirely  at  random. 

He  lost  that,  and  two  or  three  more,  before  he  yawned 
again,  as  if  fatigued  by  such  trifling,  and  pushed  a  much 
larger  amount  into  place,  as  a  blind  man  might,  for  a  final 
venture.  No  hand  had  as  yet  fallen  on  his  shoulder,  but  the 
suspense  of  not  knowing  at  what  moment  that  would  hap- 
pen was  hard  to  bear.  He  felt  like  one  in  the  grip  of  a  hide- 
ous nightmare  as  the  croupier  presently  shovelled  over 
toward  him  a  large  and  miscellaneous  assortment  of  notes 
and  gold  and  counters,  which,  none  the  less,  he  collected 
indifferently  and  dully  conscious  of  an  envious  sigh  from 
behind  him. 

He  hesitated  a  little  before  letting  go  his  hold  of  the 
pistol  about  whose  butt  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand  were 
still  closely  clasped,  in  order  to  pocket  his  profits  of  the 
evening.  He  had  laid  down  his  rake.  It  was  at  once  seized 
by  a  woman  who  had  been  standing  close  at  his  shoulder, 
and,  as  she  pushed  eagerly  past  him  into  his  seat,  the  bunch 
of  camellias  in  her  corsage  brushed  his  face.  It  was  the 
woman  with  whom  Lord  Ingoldsby  had  been  dining.  Slyne 
noticed  her  husband  among  the  crowd  in  the  rear  as  he 
himself  made  his  way  out  into  the  open.  He  noticed  also, 
approaching  him  entirely  as  if  by  accident,  the  inconspicu- 
ous spy  whose  appearance  there  had  so  alarmed  him. 

Slyne  had  not  even  time  to  h^itate.  Without  the  slight- 
est change  of  expression  he  stopped  and  confronted  his 


THE  GODDESS  OF  CHANCE  115 

enemy,  addressing  him  by  name,  in  the  execrable  French  of 
the  average  Englishman. 

"  Bon  soir,  M.  Dubois.    Comment  $a  va?    Bien,  eh?  " 

"  Monsieur  has  the  advantage  of  me,"  the  detective  re- 
turned in  effortless  English,  and  over  his  features  flitted 
the  faintest  shadow  of  disappointment. 

"  Oh,  I  scarcely  supposed  you  would  know  me,"  said 
Slyne  with  a  deprecatory  shrug.  "  This  is  my  first  trip  so 
far  afield,  though  I've  seen  you  several  times  in  Paris,  and 
we  all  know  you  quite  well  in  London,  of  course." 

The  faintest  shadow  of  what  might  have  developed  into 
a  smile  hovered  for  an  instant  about  the  famous  man- 
hunter's  lips  and  eyes,  and  Slyne  made  a  mental  note  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  not  above  being  flattered. 

"  I'm  over  here  after  a  fat  fellow  called  Jobling,"  con- 
tinued Slyne,  ingratiatingly  communicative.  "  I  don't 
suppose  you  know  anything  about  him?  " 

The  other  sniffed,  disdainfully. 

"  An  embryo  embezzler,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  such  con- 
scious superiority  that  Slyne  would  surely  have  laughed  in 
his  face  if  he  himself  had  felt  safe.  "  Give  him  rope  enough 
and  he'll  do  the  rest.  Don't  disclose  yourself  for  a  day  or 
two,  but  watch  him  carefully. 

"  Are  you  working  for  New  Scotland  Yard?  " 

Slyne  had  expected  some  such  question,  and  did  not 
stammer  over  his  answer. 

"  I've  started  a  private  agency  on  my  own  account.  This 
is  my  first  case.  A  thousand  thanks  for  your  hint.  If  all 
my  official  friends  were  as  courteous,  life  would  be  much 
pleasanter  for  me."  He  spoke  with  a  most  respectful  inflec- 
tion, but  always  in  barbarous  Anglo-French.  "  Mille  remer- 
ciments  encore,  mon  confrere.  Et  maintenant  —  a  demain." 


116  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

His  new  acquaintance  nodded  with  most  gracious  conde- 
scension and  moved  on  in  the  direction  of  an  obese  German 
diplomatist  who  had  just  met  amid  the  throng  and  greeted 
with  over-acted  surprise  a  pretty  Viennese  countess.  And 
Slyne  did  not  fail  to  observe,  amid  all  his  own  agitation, 
how  promptly  the  two  of  them  parted  again  at  sight  of  M. 
Dubois. 

He  was  conscious  that  his  own  nostrils  were  nervously 
twitching,  and  that  there  were  tiny  beads  of  cold  perspira- 
tion about  his  forehead. 

"  He  thought  he  knew  me,"  said  he  to  himself,  very 
tremulously.  "  And,  though  I've  put  him  off  the  scent  to 
some  extent,  he'll  root  about  till  -  For  all  his  nerve  of 
steel,  he  shivered  and  changed  countenance. 

"  I  can't  trust  myself  to  play  any  more  to-night  —  and 
just  when  I  was  getting  my  hand  in!  But  I  suppose  I  may 
thank  my  stars  that  I'm  no  worse  off  since  I  caught  his  eye 
—  he'd  have  been  down  on  me  in  an  instant,  if. I  had  so 
much  as  blinked.  And  now  I  must  bluff  him  out  —  I'm 
not  going  to  be  scared  off. 

"  There's  this  about  it,  anyhow  —  if  I've  really  got  him 
hoodwinked,  none  of  the  others  need  worry  me!  "  With 
which  conditional  self-encouragement,  and  having  made 
sure  that  his  enemy  was  no  longer  watching  him,  he  turned 
back  on  an  impulse,  to  see  how  Mr.  Jobling  was  getting  on. 
But  Mr.  Jobling  had  already  gone  off  with  his  winnings. 

"  I  wonder  if  he'd  take  a  hand  at  ecarte  now?  "  thought 
Slyne.  "  His  name  came  in  very  useful  just  now  —  and 
I  might  as  well  have  my  own  money  back  out  of  him  while 
he's  got  it.  He'll  probably  be  fancying  himself  at  the  mo- 
ment, too." 

And  with  that  business-like  ambition  before  him,  he 


THE  GODDESS  OF  CHANCE  117 

roamed  the  rooms  till  he  could  be  sure  that  his  proposed 
victim  was  nowhere  within  the  Casino.  Among  the  mul- 
titude there  he  could  run  across  no  one  else  who  seemed 
likely  to  prove  easy  prey.  So  he  gave  up  the  quest  with  a 
philosophical  shrug,  got  his  coat  and  hat,  and  sauntered 
out  on  to  the  terrace,  a  fragrant  cigar  between  his  thin  lips. 

"  And  I'll  stand  myself  a  bottle  of  something  at  supper, 
to  buck  me  up,"  he  promised  himself.  "  I'll  look  into  Giro's 
again  presently,  and  get  the  good  of  the  gold  piece  I  had 
to  waste  on  that  scoundrelly  waiter.  If  I  chance  across 
Jobling  there,  I'll  get  a  free  meal  as  well;  or,  if  I  should  see 
that  ass  Ingoldsby,  I'll  tackle  him  while  his  precious  keep- 
ers are  out  of  the  way.  They're  evidently  making  his 
feathers  fly!  " 

The  night  was  still,  and  even  unusually  mild  for  that 
season  of  the  year.  The  moon  had  disappeared.  Slyne 
looked  down  at  the  sea,  all  dark  and  mysterious,  with  a 
strong  feeling  of  distaste;  he  had  lately  seen  more  than 
enough  of  it  to  last  him  a  lifetime.  He  turned  his  steps 
toward  the  deserted  gardens,  to  escape  a  party  of  chatter- 
ing tourists  who  had  trespassed  on  his  privacy. 

He  was  in  no  hurry  at  all  for  supper,  and  wanted  a  few 
minutes  of  peace  and  quietness  in  which  to  compose  his  still 
troubled  mind,  and  to  consider  the  situation  as  touching 
his  lordship  of  Ingoldsby  —  who  would  undoubtedly  prove 
a  far  more  profitable  companion  than  Mr.  Jobling,  even 
although  the  latter  should  have  won  the  fifty  thousand 
francs  that  had  been  his  ambition. 

"BWhat  a  fool  that  fellow  is,  for  a  lawyer!  "  mused  Slyne, 
having  more  or  less  successfully  combated  an  inclination  to 
let  his  thoughts  stray  back  to  the  Olive  Branch  —  and 
Sallie.  And,  Click!  something  answered  him  from  behind 


118  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

a  bush  not  very  far  from  the  verge  of  the  path  he  was  medi- 
tatively pacing. 

He  jumped  aside  at  the  sound,  as  any  man  would  who 
has  known  what  it  is  to  be  ambushed,  and  then,  recollect- 
ing himself,  stood  still,  with  a  mirthless,  annoyed  half- 
smile.  He  did  not  believe  that  Dubois  would  adopt  any 
such  noisy  means  to  get  rid  of  him,  but  —  none  the  less,  he 
felt  impelled  to  find  out  who  was  in  hiding  behind  that 
bush. 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE 

SLYNE  skirted  a  flower-bed  cautiously  and,  approach- 
ing the  shadowy  background  by  a  flank  movement, 
found  a  stout  individual  in  a  voluminous  coat  kneel- 
ing on  the  grass  there,  with  some  white,  metallic  object  in 
one  trembling  hand  lifted  in  the  direction  of  his  own  left 
eyelid.  A  second  Click!  startled  Slyne  disproportionately, 
and  he  spoke  at  that,  in  a  very  querulous  voice.  "  Hey! 
you  fool,"  he  said,  "  you're  wasting  your  time.  Wait  till 
I  show  you  how. 

"  Good  Lord!  is  that  you,  Jobling?  " 

Mr.  Jobling  suddenly  cast  a  revolver  from  him,  with  a 
wailing  execration,  and,  attempting  to  rise,  sank  down  be- 
side it,  blubbering,  entirely  unstrung  after  the  agonising 
strain  of  the  past  few  seconds.  Slyne,  eyeing  him  with 
exasperated  contempt,  picked  the  weapon  up  and  fingered 
it  for  an  instant. 

"A  damned  rotten  make!"  he  commented  morosely. 
"  But  it'll  do  the  job  for  you  all  right  now.  You  can't 
shoot  it  off,  you  know,  with  the  safety  catch  set." 

The  miserable  man  on  the  grass  held  out  his  hand  for  it, 
humbly.  But  Slyne  was  not  at  all  prepared  to  take  any 
risks  on  his  account  —  for  suicide  and  murder  are  often 
very  difficult  to  distinguish,  in  their  results  —  and  made 
up  his  mind  to  keep  it,  in  the  meantime  at  any  rate. 


120  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  Get  up,"  he  ordered  in  his  sharpest  tone,  "  and  come 
away  out  of  this.  If  you  could  only  see  yourself,  you 
wouldn't  want  to  sit  there  and  whimper." 

Under  the  spur  of  that  insult  Mr.  Jobling  seemed  to  recall 
some  stray  shred  of  his  forfeited  self-respect.  He  got  on  to 
his  knees,  with  an  effort,  and  thence  by  degrees  to  his  feet. 

"  I  think  you  might  show  a  little  more  decent  feeling," 
he  sobbed  brokenly,  "  when  - 

"  And  I  think  you  might  show  a  vast  deal  more  sense," 
snapped  Slyne.  "  Button  up  your  coat,  and  come  away 
out  of  this.  You  can  kill  yourself  just  as  easily  —  a  good 
deal  more  so,  in  fact,  since  I've  shown  you  how  —  in  half 
an  hour,  after  I'm  in  a  safer  position  to  prove  an  alibi  if 
any  inconvenient  questions  are  asked  about  it  afterwards. 
Come  on,  now." 

His  whilom  acquaintance  followed  him  meekly,  muttering, 
to  a  secluded  corner  where  there  was  a  seat. 

"  What's  the  trouble?  "  demanded  Slyne  magisterially, 
sitting  down  at  one  end  of  the  bench  and  motioning  him 
to  the  other.  "  But  I  suppose  I  need  scarcely  ask.  Trust 
funds  mysteriously  melted  away  —  the  usual  childish  at- 
tempt to  recover  them  by  sheer  chance,  and  with  all  the  odds 
against  you!  —  the  dread  of  exposure  and  disgrace  —  which 
never  worry  a  dead  man.  You've  been  a  bit  of  a  wolf  in 
sheep's  clothing,  eh,  my  respectable  friend?  And  you'd 
rather  die  in  the  dark  than  face  the  world  in  broad  daylight 
without  your  immaculate  fleece." 

Mr.  Jobling  groaned. 

"  But  why,  after  all,  finish  playing  the  knave  by  playing 
the  fool?  If  you  were  the  man  of  the  world  you  fancy  your- 
self, you'd  know  that  sheep  are  very  seldom  successful  in  real 
life.  It's  all  very  well  to  pose  in  a  sheep-skin,  but  it  isn't 


A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE  121 

everything.  A  wolf  undisguised  can  do  very  well  for  him- 
self, so  long  as  his  teeth  are  sufficiently  sharp.  And,  when 
he  becomes  a  big  millionaire,  he  can  buy  himself,  among 
other  things,  a  nice  new  merino  coat." 

His  parable  amused  himself,  but  his  auditor  did  not  seem 
possessed  of  a  sufficient  sense  of  humour  to  appreciate  its 
personal  application. 

<f  You're  labouring  under  a  misapprehension,"  said  that 
gentleman,  who  had  meantime  regained  some  grip  on  him- 
self, in  accents  anything  but  properly  grateful.  "  I  may, 
perhaps,  have  been  unfortunate  with  —  er  —  a  few  small 
investments  for  clients,  but  your  inference  that  I  have  — 
er  —  er—  You're  positively  insulting,  sir!  " 

Slyne  laughed,  in  better  humour.  "  Bah!  "  said  he. 
"  What's  the  use  of  bluffing?  You  weren't  going  to  blow 
out  your  brains  —  if  any  —  because  you  had  been  too  hon- 
est, were  you?  " 

"  I'm  a  desperate  man,"  declared  Mr.  Jobling,  thus  rudely 
reminded  of  the  matter  in  hand.  "  Life  isn't  worth  living, 
now  that  I've  lost  —  He  gulped  and  gasped,  once  more 
on  the  verge  of  tears,  but  a  furtive  glance  at  Slyne's  im- 
passive features,  dimly  visible  in  the  glow  of  a  half-smoked 
cigar,  showed  him  he  need  not  expect  any  excess  of  sym- 
pathy from  that  quarter.  It  also  seemed  to  suggest  to  him, 
in  the  midst  of  his  anguish  of  mind,  an  idea.  He  looked 
round  at  Slyne  again. 

"  You're  a  man  of  wealth,"  he  said  in  a  husky  voice  whose 
suddenly  inspired  eagerness  he  could  not  conceal,  and 
some  spark  of  hope  perhaps  sprang  up  in  his  fainting  heart 
again  since  Slyne  did  not  deny  that  erroneous  suggestion. 
Slyne  was  waiting  to  hear  what  more  he  might  have  to  say, 
though  not  with  any  intention  of  helping  him. 


122  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I  wonder  —  "  the  stout  solicitor  muttered.    "  It  might 
interest  you  to  —     Two  heads  are  better  than  one,  and  - 
Some  sort  of  partnership  - 

"  I  can  only  spare  you  five  minutes  more,"  said  Slyne 
crisply.  "  As  soon  as  I've  finished  my  cigar,  I'm  going  across 
to  Giro's  for  supper.  The  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  is  expect- 
ing me." 

"  Do  you  know  his  lordship?  "  breathed  Mr.  Jobling,  his 
new-born  hope  no  doubt  gaining  strength  and  his  respect 
for  his  chance  companion  obviously  increased.  "  Then 
you'll  understand  me  when  I  tell  you  that  I've  ruined  my- 
self —  ab-so-lutely  ruined  myself  over  the  Jura  succession." 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  the  devil  you're  talking 
about,"  said  Slyne. 

Mr.  Jobling  groaned  again.  He  was  most  grievously  dis- 
appointed. 

"  I  thought  every  one  had  heard  of  the  case,"  he  went  on. 
"  A  couple  of  millions  in  cash  —  " 

"  Millions  of  what?  "  demanded  Slyne  with  a  little  more 
lively  interest. 

"  Pounds  sterling,"  the  London  lawyer  explained,  rather 
testily.  "  A  couple  of  millions  in  cash  and  forty  or  fifty 
thousand  a  year  going  a-begging  may  not  seem  a  very  im- 
portant matter  to  a  moneyed  man  like  you,  but  I've 
thought  of  nothing  else,  night  and  day,  for  the  past  five 
years,  and  - 

"I've  been  all  over  the  world  for  the  past  five  years," 
mentioned  Slyne  loftily,  but  impatient  now,  "  and  the  latest 
news  of  the  parish  pump  has  probably  failed  to  reach  me. 
Get  on  with  your  story,  anyhow.  If  there's  anything  in  it 
- 1  don't  know  but  that  I  may  be  disposed  to  lend  you  a 
hand  —  if  there's  anything  in  it."  And,  having  lighted  a 


A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE  123 

fresh  cigar,  he  composed  himself  to  listen.  His  time  was  his 
own.  The  chance  of  catching  Lord  Ingoldsby  alone  at 
Giro's  was  too  remote  to  be  worth  more  than  the  passing 
thought.  A  story  with  so  much  money  in  it  might  prove  at 
least  as  entertaining  as  a  solitary  supper. 

Mr.  Jobling  gazed  with  glistening  eyes  at  his  providential 
acquaintance.  "  I've  told  you  what  there  is  in  it,"  said  he 
in  a  tremulous  tone.  "  A  couple  of  millions  in  cash  and  forty 
or  fifty  thousand  a  year  that  will  all  ultimately  fall  to  the 
Crown  —  unless  I  can  find  that  girl,  or  —  " 

"  What  girl?  "  Slyne  demanded  irritably. 

"  The  late  Earl  of  Jura's  daughter.  You'll  no  doubt  re- 
member —  But  if  you've  been  abroad  for  so  long,  I'd  bet- 
ter repeat  —  "  And,  having  got  over  his  nervous  prolixity, 
he  became  much  more  explicit. 

"  The  late  earl's  first  wife,  as  you  must  recall,  sir,  was 
Lady  Eulalie  Orlebarre.  But  she  did  not  survive  the  birth 
of  their  only  child,  a  son,  in  1876. 

"  The  earl  married  again,  in  '94.  His  second  wife  was 
Josceline  Beljambes,  the  famous  dancer.  A  daughter  was 
born  to  them.  But  they  separated,  by  mutual  agreement, 
only  a  year  or  two  later,  and  the  countess  retained  custody 
of  her  daughter.  The  earl  was  a  good  deal  older  than  she. 

"  She  was  a  very  restless,  erratic  woman,  and  fond  of 
travel.  In  '99  she  disappeared  most  mysteriously,  some- 
where abroad,  and  has  never  been  heard  of  since. 

"  The  following  year,  Lord  St.  Just,  the  earl's  son  by  his 
first  wife  and,  of  course,  his  heir,  was  found  dead  one  day 
at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs  near  Loquhariot,  the  family  seat  in 
Scotland.  He  had  grown  up  a  very  headstrong,  trouble- 
some lad,  I  have  heard.  There  was  some  suspicion  of  foul 
play  on  the  part  of  one  of  the  gamekeepers  on  the  estate 


124  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

-  some  scandalous  story  about  a  girl  in  the  village  —  but 
the  coroner's  jury  returned  an  open  verdict. 

"  The  earl  himself  died  in  1906,  a  little  more  than  five 
years  ago.  The  estates  fell  into  Chancery.  And  ever  since 
I've  been  trying  to  trace  his  second  wife  —  or  their  child; 
for,  failing  an  heir-male,  the  female  line  of  succession  main- 
tains in  the  family. 

"  The  Court  of  Chancery  is  quite  prepared  to  presume 
the  mother  dead,  and  I  have  evidence  sufficient  to  prove 
that  assumption  a  certainty.  So  that  now,  you  see,  if  I 
could  only  find  - 

He  hesitated,  to  scrutinise  his  companion's  inscrutable 
face. 

"  I  was  a  consummate  fool,  of  course,  ever  to  have  come 
to  Monte  Carlo,"  he  went  off  at  a  tangent.  "  Though  I 
had  a  good  enough  reason  for  coming,"  he  went  on,  defend- 
ing himself  to  himself.  "  I  didn't  dare  trust  anyone  in 
London.  And  I  —  I  thought  that  I  might  find  here  —  " 
He  balked  again. 

"  It  was  merely  to  pass  the  time  that  I  first  tried  my  luck 
at  the  tables  —  and  look  at  me  now!  I  haven't  even  money 
to  pay  my  hotel  bill.  For  want  of  a  few  thousand  francs 
I  must  lose  my  chance  of  the  fortune  on  which  I've  staked 
every  penny  I  could  scrape  together  and  —  and  five  years 
of  my  good  time,  and  -  He  started  to  one  side  as  Slyne 
cut  him  short. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  waste  five  seconds  of  my  good  time," 
said  Slyne  with  concentrated  bitterness,  "  in  telling  you 
how  many  different  sorts  of  a  damned  fool  you  are."  His 
expensive  cigar  had  gone  out,  unheeded.  But  his  keen, 
close-set  eyes  were  aglow.  He  was  finding  it  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  contain  himself. 


A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE  125 

"  Are  you  sure  of  your  facts?  "  he  demanded,  in  the  same 
acid,  embittered  voice. 

"  From  first  to  last,"  affirmed  Mr.  Jobling,  so  peevishly 
that  Slyne  was  satisfied.  "  Haven't  I  told  you  that  I've 
spent  five  years  of  my  life  and  every  penny  I  could  —  er  — * 
every  penny  I  possessed,  in  sifting  them  out,  and  that  I'm 
a  Chancery  practitioner?  I  have  most  of  the  papers  with 
me  at  the  Metropole.  There's  only  the  one  link  lacking  to 
complete  the  long  chain  I've  forged.  And  —  "  He  low- 
ered his  voice  to  a  whisper  after  looking  about  him  fur- 
tively, and,  at  last,  under  the  decent  screen  of  the  darkness, 
completely  demoralised  by  the  events  of  the  day,  confided 
in  the  Heaven-sent  stranger  beside  him  his  chief  ambition 
in  coming  to  Monte  Carlo.  "  And  even  a  good  enough  imi- 
tation might  serve  —  " 

"  No  imitation  would  stand  the  strain,"  Slyne  inter- 
rupted him  hoarsely.  "  And  you'll  very  soon  find  yourself 
inside  the  four  walls  of  a  cell,  my  friend,  if  you  try  any 
forgery  of  that  sort.  You  can  take  my  word  for  that,  be- 
cause —  I'm  the  real  rivet,  and  without  me  all  the  rest  of 
your  precious  chain  isn't  worth  a  snap  of  my  fingers." 

Mr.  Jobling  subsided  into  a  heap,  and  was  staring  at  him, 
open-mouthed.  But  Slyne  said  no  more  for  a  moment  or 
two.  Outwardly  quite  calm  and  matter-of-fact,  his  mind 
was  in  a  seething  turmoil.  If  all  the  inept  rogue  beside  him 
had  said  were  true  —  He  could  scarcely  restrain  an  im- 
pulse to  get  to  his  feet  and  shout  for  joy. 

The  lawyer  seemed  to  have  nothing  more  to  say,  either. 
And  Slyne,  having  somewhat  recovered  command  of  him- 
self, at  length  rose,  tossing  his  cold  cigar  away  with  an 
angry  oath.  "  It  makes  my  blood  boil,"  said  he,  "  to 
think  -  But  for  the  sheerest  accident  you'd  be  a  dead 


126  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

man  by  now  —  and  where  would  /  have  been  then !  You 
don't  deserve  such  stupendous  luck, and, by  the  Lord  Harry! 
if  I  find  you  playing  the  fool  again  -  You're  going  to  put 
yourself  into  my  hands  from  now  on,  d'ye  hear?  And,  in  the 
first  place,  I  must  see  those  papers  you  spoke  of;  if  they're 
in  order,  I'll  see  the  thing  through.  We  can't  work  without 
each  other,  unfortunately  for  me,  or  —  " 

"  You're  going  too  fast,"  intervened  Mr.  Jobling,  still 
seated,  and  with  some  faint  show  of  spirit.  "  You're 
taking  too  much  for  granted,  sir.  I  don't  even  know 
who  you  are,  and  —  we  must  come  to  terms  of  some  sort 
before  —  " 

He  shrank  aside  as  Slyne  stepped  forward  with  twitching 
fingers  and  eyes  aflame. 

"  You'll  take  whatever  terms  you  get  —  and  be  precious 
thankful,"  hissed  Slyne,  stooping  over  him.  "  You'll  do 
exactly  what  you're  told,  no  more,  and  no  less.  And  — 
you  won't  forget  again,  will  you,  that  you've  met  your 
master  in  me?  " 

Mr.  Jobling,  gazing,  aghast,  into  the  muzzle  of  the  cheap 
revolver  which  had  proved  so  ineffective  in  his  own  hands, 
at  last  regained  voice  enough  to  subscribe  solemnly  to  these 
stipulations,  and  from  that  moment  went  uncomfortably, 
in  fear  for  the  life  he  himself  had  been  trying  to  take  not 
an  hour  before.  That  was  probably  the  first  time  he  had 
ever  been  threatened  with  personal  violence,  and  a  life  spent 
chiefly  in  Chancery  Lane  does  not  always  foster  an  excess 
of  that  calculating  courage  needed  to  deal  with  one  of 
Slyne's  dangerous  sort. 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  Slyne,  and  Mr.  Jobling  got  sha- 
kily up  from  the  bench.  "  You  needn't  be  afraid  that  I 
won't  deal  fair  —  generously  with  you,  but  this  is  no  time 


A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE  127 

to  be  haggling  here.  We  haven't  a  moment  to  spare.  I 
must  see  those  papers  at  once.  Step  out!  " 

The  hall-porter  at  the  Metropole  raised  his  eyebrows 
over  Mr.  Jobling's  somewhat  dishevelled  appearance,  but 
promptly  lowered  them  again  in  response  to  a  look  from 
Slyne. 

"  Tell  them  to  send  up  your  bill,"  said  Slyne  to  the  law- 
yer. "  If  everything's  all  right,  I'll  settle  it  and  put  you  up 
at  the  Paris." 

And  Mr.  Jobling  very  meekly  did  as  he  was  bidden.  He 
could  not  well  help  himself,  just  then.  But  his  expression 
was  not  at  all  properly  grateful  as  he  ushered  Slyne  into  the 
room  he  himself  had  never  expected  to  see  again,  and  there 
proceeded  to  display  to  that  masterful  adventurer  the  mass 
of  papers  on  which  their  further  partnership  was  to  depend. 

Slyne  picked  out  the  more  important  of  these  with  an 
acumen  which  would  have  done  Mr.  Jobling  himself  every 
credit;  and  for  a  busy  hour  they  two  sat  poring  over  one 
dog's-eared  document  after  another,  Slyne's  mask  of  in- 
difference deserting  him  by  degrees  as  he  grasped  point 
after  point  of  the  case,  till  he  threw  the  last  down  with  a 
smile  of  triumph,  and,  rising  from  the  table,  paced  to  and 
fro  for  a  moment,  rubbing  his  hands  in  an  ecstasy  of  ex- 
ultation. 

"  Everything's  all  right,"  he  announced  confidently. 
"  My  —  our  fortune's  as  good  as  made;  and  I'll  tell  you 
what,  Jobling,  —  you  shall  have  ten  per  cent,  of  the  im- 
mediate cash  for  your  share.  How  does  that  strike  you, 
eh?  I  don't  say  that  you  deserve  any  such  consideration 
from  me,  but  —  I'm  ready  to  let  bygones  be  bygones, 
and  I  want  you  to  work  for  me  with  a  will." 

His  self-assurance  was  contagious.     Mr.  Jobling,  after 


128  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

the  merest  moment  of  hesitation,  rose  in  his  turn,  holding 
out  a  hand,  which  Slyne  grasped  affectionately.  And  thus 
they  came  to  an  amicable  understanding,  without  more 
words. 

"  Pack  up  now,"  commanded  Slyne,  pleasantly  peremp- 
tory, "  and  we'll  run  across  to  the  Paris.  I've  any  amount 
to  do  yet,  before  I  can  snatch  a  sleep." 

"  I'll  be  very  thankful  to  get  into  my  bed,"  said  Mr. 
Jobling,  already  busy  among  his  belongings,  and  more  than 
a  little  dazed  by  the  march  of  events.  "  I've  had  a  most 
trying  day." 

It  did  not  take  long  to  have  his  baggage  transferred  to 
the  other  hotel,  and  there  Slyne  put  him  under  confidential 
charge  of  the  manager,  with  very  strict  orders  that  he 
was  not,  on  any  pretext  whatever,  to  be  allowed  to  decamp 
pending  Slyne's  return.  Whereafter  that  active  man  of 
affairs  sent  to  the  garage  for  his  car,  with  word  that  his 
chauffeur  need  not  be  disturbed  and,  having  deposited 
his  still  uncounted  winnings  with  the  cashier,  started  east- 
ward again  in  such  haste  that  he  would  not  even  wait  to 
change  his  thin  evening  clothes. 

Slyne  was,  in  fact,  fiercely  excited.  His  particular 
Providence  seemed  to  be  holding  out  to  him  such  a  chance 
in  life  as  he  could  scarcely  have  conceived  himself  in  his 
wildest  dreams.  And  he  was  in  such  frantic  haste  to  grasp 
that  chance  —  which  involved  so  much  more  than  the  mere 
money  —  that  he  had  quite  forgotten  his  recent  fear  of 
M.  Dubois. 

"  I  think  I've  got  you  this  time,  my  girl!  "  said  he  to 
himself  gleefully,  as  he  once  more  slowed  down  to  stop  at 
the  Italian  frontier.  And  that  was  the  burden  of  all  his 
thoughts  as  he  raced  madly  along  the  Corniche  Road  in 


A  FOOL  AND  HIS  FORTUNE  129 

his  high-powered  car.  In  the  darkness  before  the  dawn, 
his  eyes  intent  on  the  long  white  ribbon  of  highway  end- 
lessly slipping  toward  his  head-lights,  he  saw  only  roseate 
visions  of  what  the  future  now  held  for  him.  As  the  sun 
rose  to  burnish  the  bare,  brown  mountains  before  him,  he 
nodded  happily  to  himself,  and  his  lips  moved  again  to  the 
glad  refrain,  "  I  think  I've  got  you  quite  safe  this  time, 
my  girl!  " 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  PRICE   OF   FREEDOM 

SLYNE'S  nostrils  curled  as  he  observed  the  dirty  and 
dishevelled  aspect  of  the  Olive  Branch,  lying  idle  in 
Genoa  harbour  alongside  the  coal-chutes  where  the 
day's  work  had  not  yet  begun.  He  had  grown  extremely 
fastidious  again  within  the  very  short  space  of  time  which 
had  passed  since  he  had  last  seen  her. 

There  was  no  one  visible  about  her  littered  decks  except 
the  watchman  on  duty,  whose  sole  salute  to  him  as  he 
stepped  carefully  up  the  insecure  gangplank  was  a  sullen 
scowl. 

But  that  might  have  been  deemed  quite  a  hearty  welcome 
in  contrast  with  his  reception  by  Captain  Dove. 

Captain  Dove  was,  in  point  of  fact,  furious  when  he 
opened  his  little,  red-rimmed  eyes  and  became  aware  of 
his  former  friend's  intrusion  upon  his  privacy.  Sitting  up 
in  his  frowsy  bunk,  with  the  blankets  huddled  about  him, 
looking  ludicrously  like  an  incensed  gorilla,  he  raged  and 
swore  at  his  gratuitous  visitor  until  his  voice  gave  out. 

Slyne,  forgetful,  in  his  new  enthusiasm,  of  the  terms  on 
which  they  had  parted,  was  at  first  somewhat  taken  aback 
by  that  outburst;  but  only  at  first.  And  his  sanguine 
anticipations  enabled  him  to  endure  it  unmoved.  It  also 
gave  him  time  to  collect  his  ideas.  He  could  see  that  his 
errand  was  not  going  to  prove  quite  so  easy  as  he  had  ex- 


THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM  131 

pected,  and  that  he  must  play  his  new  cards  with  discrim- 
ination. As  soon  as  the  evil  old  man  in  the  bunk  had  ex- 
hausted himself  in  invective,  Slyne  spoke,  smooth  and  cut- 
tingly. 

"  I  came  back  to  do  you  a  good  turn.  But  —  if  that's 
how  you're  going  to  take  it,  you  foul-mouthed  old  rapparee ! 
I'll  save  my  breath  and  be  off  again.  What  th'  deuce  d'ye 
mean  by  shouting  at  me  as  if  I  were  a  drunken  deck-hand! 
Speak  to  me  above  a  whisper  now  —  and  you'll  see  what'll 
happen  to  y9u.  That's  the  police-boat  pulling  past." 

The  opportune  plash  of  oars  had  suggested  to  him  that 
plausible  threat.  Captain  Dove,  listening  intently,  crouched 
back  against  the  bulkhead,  his  blinking,  hot,  suspicious 
eyes  on  Slyne's.  The  boat  passed  on.  But  he  had  found 
time  to  observe  that  Slyne  was  in  evening  dress,  with  an 
expensive  fur  coat  to  keep  the  cold  out.  And  Slyne's 
cool  contempt  for  his  ill-temper  would  seem  to  have  im- 
pressed him  no  less  than  Slyne's  air  of  solid  prosperity. 

He  himself,  it  appeared,  had  had  care  and  adversity  for 
his  companions  ever  since  parting  with  his  former  friend. 
His  chief  aim  in  calling  at  Genoa  had  been  cheap  coal  and 
cheaper  repairs,  and  he  thought  that  he  was  less  likely 
to  be  recognised  there  than  elsewhere  in  the  Mediterranean. 
But  coal,  he  had  found,  had  risen  to  a  ruinous  price  in 
consequence  of  a  recent  strike  among  the  miners  in  England ; 
and  for  even  the  most  trifling  repairs  he  would  have  to  wait 
at  least  a  week,  because  the  dock-yard  people  were  already 
working  over-time  to  make  way  for  a  man-of-war.  Credit 
of  any  sort  was  not  to  be  had.  His  portage-bill  bade  fair 
to  swamp  his  insufficient  cash  resources  —  even  although 
three  of  his  now  scanty  crew  had  already  deserted.  And 
who  could  foretell  what  might  happen  to  him  if  they  should 


132  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

get  wagging  their  tongues  too  freely  in  some  wine-shop 
ashore!  While,  as  if  for  climax,  the  Customs'  authorities 
had  been  displaying  a  most  suspicious  interest  in  him  and 
his  ship.  Under  such  circumstances,  even  a  saint  might 
have  been  pardoned,  as  he  pointed  out,  for  showing  a  temper 
something  short  of  seraphic. 

"  And  you've  been  doing  me  good  turns  —  by  your  way 
of  it  —  for  some  time  past,"  he  continued,  in  a  stifled, 
vehement  whisper  lest  his  voice  should  still  reach  the  re- 
ceding boat.  "  Though  —  "  He  waved  a  clawlike  hand 
about  him,  words  again  failing  him  to  describe  adequately 
his  sufferings  in  consequence,  as  who  should  say,  "  See 
the  result  for  yourself." 

Slyne  sat  down  on  the  sofa  opposite  him,  not  even  con- 
descending to  glance,  in  response  to  that  invitation,  round 
the  squalid,  poverty-stricken  little  cabin.  "  Never  mind 
about  some  time  past,"  he  advised,  more  pacifically. 
"  You'll  never  get  rich  quick  yesterday.  To-day's  when 
I'm  going  to  make  my  pile.  And  I  meant  to  let  you  in  —  " 

"  To  another  hole,"  Captain  Dove  concluded  sceptically. 
"  I  only  wish  you'd  show  me  some  sure  way  out  of  the  one 
I'm  in." 

Slyne  looked  his  annoyance  at  that  further  interruption, 
and  made  as  if  to  rise,  but  did  no  more  than  draw  his 
gold  cigarette-case  from  its  pocket.  He  knew  that  Cap- 
tain Dove  was  merely  trying  to  aggravate  him,  and  it 
would  not  have  been  politic  to  stray  from  the  matter  in 
hand.  He  lighted  a  cigarette  at  his  leisure  and  waited  for 
what  should  come  next.  He  had  changed  his  mind  as 
to  taking  the  old  man  fully  into  his  confidence.  He  thought 
he  could  see  his  way  to  get  all  he  wanted  for  a  very  great 
deal  less  than  that  might  have  cost  him. 


THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM  133 

"  Want  a  drink?  "  Captain  Dove  demanded,  no  doubt 
with  the  idea  that  a  dose  of  spirit  might  serve  to  stir  up 
his  visitor's  temper,  and  looked  surprised  at  Slyne's 
curt  head-shake,  still  more  surprised  over  his  response. 

"  I  can't  afford  to  drink  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night 
now,"  said  Slyne  austerely.  "  That  sort  of  thing  was 
all  very  well  at  sea,  but  —  The  business  I  have  in  hand 
isn't  of  the  sort  that  can  be  carried  out  on  raw  brandy. 
And  you'll  have  to  taper  off  too,  if  you  want  to  come  in." 

"Strike  —  me  —  sky-blue!"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
and  Slyne  held  up  a  reproving  hand. 

"  I  can  do  with  a  good  deal  less  of  your  bad  language 
into  the  bargain,"  he  mentioned  coldly,  "  if  you  don't 
mind.  In  short,  I  want  you  to  understand  from  the  start 
that  you've  got  to  behave  as  if  you  were  a  reasonable  human 
being  and  not  a  dangerous  lunatic,  or  —  I'll  leave  you 
to  rot,  in  the  hole  you've  got  yourself  into." 

Captain  Dove,  scarcely  able  to  credit  the  evidence  of 
his  own  ears  but,  none  the  less,  apparently,  thinking  hard, 
darted  a  very  ugly  glance  at  him,  and  noticed  the  diamonds 
in  his  shirt-front.  Under  the  strongest  temptation  to 
call  in  a  couple  of  deck-hands  and  have  him  thrown  off  the 
ship,  Captain  Dove  obviously  paused  to  consider  whether 
those  could  be  of  any  intrinsic  value.  He  was,  of  course, 
satisfied  that  he  knew  exactly  how  much  —  or,  rather,  how 
little  money  Slyne  had  had  in  his  pockets  when  he  went 
ashore.  And,  if  Slyne  had  already,  within  four  and  twenty 
Lours,  been  able  to  turn  that  over  at  a  profit  sufficient  to 
provide  himself  with  a  fur  coat  and  diamonds,  it  might 
perhaps  pay  Captain  Dove  to  hear  what  he  had  to  propose. 
Slyne,  reading  all  the  old  man's  thoughts,  could  see  that 
he  had  decided  to  temporise. 


134  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"But,  I  can  do  with  a  damn  sight  less  of  your  back- 
chat!  "  rumbled  Captain  Dove,  not  to  be  put  down  without 
protest.  "  If  you've  come  back  on  board  to  offer  me  a 
founder's  share  in  any  new  gold-brick  factory,  fire  straight 
ahead  —  and  be  short  about  it.  It'll  save  time,  too,  if 
you'll  take  it  from  me  again  that  I'd  rather  have  your  room 
than  your  company." 

And  at  that,  Slyne  made  his  next  considered  move. 

"  All  right,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  the  most  utter  contempt. 
"  That's  enough.  I'm  off. 

"  I  came  back  to  do  you  a  good  turn  —  although  few 
men,  in  my  position,  would  ever  have  looked  near  you 
again,"  he  paused  in  the  doorway  to  remark  acridly.  "  But 
I  can  see  now  what's  the  matter  with  you  —  and  I  only 
wish  I  had  noticed  it  in  time  to  save  myself  all  it  has  cost 
me.  It's  senile  decay  you're  suffering  from.  You're  far 
too  old  to  be  of  any  more  use  —  even  to  yourself.  You're 
in  your  dotage,  and  you'll  soon  be  in  an  asylum  —  for 
pauper  lunatics!  " 

He  had  evidently  lost  his  own  temper  at  last.  And  Cap- 
tain Dove  was  visibly  pleased  with  that  result  of  his  tactics; 
as  a  rule  he  was  better  able  to  cope  with  Slyne  on  a  basis 
of  mutual  abuse,  heated  on  both  sides;  Slyne  cool  and  col- 
lected had  him  at  a  disadvantage. 

"  Now  you're  talking!  "  he  retorted  approvingly.  "  Say 
what's  in  your  mind,  straightforwardly,  and  we'll  soon 
come  to  an  understanding.  Sit  down  again,  you  strutting 
peacock!  and  tell  me  what  it  is  you  want." 

Slyne  did  not  sit  down  again,  however;  to  do  so  would 
scarcely  have  been  dignified.  He  stayed  in  the  doorway, 
silent,  a  thin  stream  of  cigarette-smoke  slowly  filtering 
from  his  nostrils.  His  cold,  calculating  eyes  were  once  more 


THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM  135 

on  Captain  Dove's.    And  it  was  Captain  Dove's  would-be 
mocking  glance  that  at  length  gave  way. 

"  You  offered  to  give  me  Sallie.  if  I  paid  you  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars,"  said  Slyne,  judicially. 
,  "  To  see  you  safely  married   to  her,"   Captain  Dove 
corrected  him. 

Slyne  nodded,  in  grave  assent. 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  hold  you  to  your  offer,"  said  he. 
"  The  money's  ready  and  waiting  for  you  —  just  as  soon 
as  we  can  settle  a  few  trifling  formalities.  I  have  Sallie's 
promise  to  marry  me  — 

"  The  devil  you  have!  "  said  Captain  Dove,  not  slow  to 
seize  opportunity  either.  "  I  thought  I  heard  her  say  — 

Slyne's  face  darkened  again.  "  And,  if  you'll  come 
ashore  with  me  now,"  he  went  on,  controlling  his  temper, 
"  I'll  prove  to  you  that  your  money  is  perfectly  safe." 

Captain  Dove  lay  back  in  his  bunk  and  laughed,  most 
discordantly.  He  laughed  till  his  red-rimmed  eyes  were 
adrip,  while  Slyne  sat  looking  at  him.  He  was  still  laughing 
when  Slyne  rose  and,  flicking  the  cigarette-end  from  between 
two  nicotine-stained  fingers,  began  to  button  his  coat. 
He  stopped  laughing  then,  by  calculated  degrees. 

"Sit  down  —  sit  down!"  said  he  wheezily.  "What's 
your  hurry?  You  haven't  told  me  yet  what  those  few 
'  trifling  formalities '  are.  And  how  am  I  to  know 
whether  — 

But  Slyne  was  already  beyond  the  doorway,  fumbling 
with  a  last  button. 

"  If  you  believe  I've  come  here  to  talk  simply  for  the 
sake  of  talking,"  said  he  with  sombre  magnificence,  "  I 
needn't  waste  any  more  breath  on  you.  Good-bye." 

Captain  Dove  jumped  out  of  his  bunk.    He  was  clearly 


136  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

impressed,  in  spite  of  himself,  by  the  other's  indomitable 
assurance. 

"  Come  back,  you  fool !  "  he  called  angrily.  "  Come  back. 
I  want  to  know  - 

"  I'll  go  ashore  with  you,"  he  shouted,  raising  his  voice, 
since  Slyne  was  already  on  his  way  to  the  gangway.  But 
Slyne  did  not  seem  to  hear. 

"  I'll  take  your  offer  —  for  Sallie,"  cried  Captain  Dove, 
in  a  slightly  lower  tone. 

Slyne  hesitated  in  his  stride,  stopped,  and  turned  back 
into  the  alleyway  which  led  to  the  saloon. 

"  What  was  that  you  said?  "  he  demanded  of  Captain 
Dove. 

"  Come  on  inside,"  requested  Captain  Dove,  more 
curtly. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  will,"  Slyne  declared,  inwardly  elated 
over  the  winning  of  that  somewhat  risky  move.  "  You  don't 
deserve  another  chance.  And,  if  I  do  give  you  another, 
you  needn't  suppose  - 

"  Come  on  inside,"  begged  Captain  Dove,  shivering,  in 
no  case  to  listen  to  any  lecture.  "  Come  on,  and  we'll 
talk  sense.  Don't  waste  any  more  good  time." 

Slyne  followed  him  in  again,  congratulating  himself  on 
his  firmness.  He  felt  that  he  had  gained  the  whip-hand  of 
the  old  man,  and  he  meant  to  keep  it.  He  curtly  refused 
again  Captain  Dove's  more  hospitable  offer  of  some  re- 
freshment, and,  while  his  aggrieved  host  was  clumsily 
getting  into  some  warmer  clothing,  talked  to  him  from  the 
saloon  through  the  open  doorway  of  his  cramped  sleeping- 
quarters.  It  was  easier  to  arrange  matters  so  than  under 
Captain  Dove's  direct  observation. 

"  You'll  pay  me  cash,  of  course,"  Captain  Dove  stip- 


THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM  137 

ulated,  as  though  he  had  been  bargaining  about  a  charter- 
party. 

"  I'll  pay  you  cash,"  Slyne  agreed,  "  the  day  Sallie 
marries  me.  And  meantime  I'll  give  you  my  note  of  hand 
at  thirty  days  for  the  money."  He  listened  intently,  but 
Captain  Dove,  struggling  fretfully  with  refractory  buttons, 
maintained  an  ominous  silence. 

"  I'll  have  it  backed  by  a  London  lawyer,  to  keep  you 
safe,"  said  Slyne.  "And  listen!  I'm  not  asking  you  to 
risk  anything,  or  even  to  take  my  note  at  its  face  value. 
I  want  you  to  come  ashore  with  me  and  find  out  for  yourself 
from  my  lawyer  that  you  can  depend  on  the  money.  If 
you  don't  feel  satisfied  about  that  after  you've  seen  him, 
you  needn't  go  any  farther,  we'll  call  the  bargain  off; 
you  can  get  back  on  board  your  ship  at  once  and  no  harm 
done. 

"  And,  even  as  regards  Sallie,  I'm  going  out  of  my  way 
to  keep  you  right.  I'd  give  a  great  deal  to  get  married  at 
once,  but  —  I'm  willing  to  wait  till  the  day  I  can  hand  you 
your  hundred  thousand  in  cash.  Everything's  fair,  square, 
and  above-board  now.  I'm  not  asking  you  to  risk  anything. 

"  And  where  in  the  wide  world  can  you  expect  to  do 
better  for  yourself!  "  he  argued.  "  If  you  go  East  you'll 
get  no  more  for  the  girl  —  and  look  at  the  expense !  You'll 
be  sorry  all  the  rest  of  your  life,  too,  for  I  know  you'd  far 
sooner  see  her  decently  settled  than  sell  her  to  any  dog- 
faced  son-of-a-gun  of  a  mandarin! 

"  You  can  say  what  you  like,"  he  concluded,  although 
Captain  Dove  had  said  never  a  word.  "  Clean  money's 
pleasanter  to  spend  than  dirty,  any  day.  If  I  had  been 
born  wealthy,  I'd  never  have  needed  to  touch  a  marked 
card.  And  now's  your  chance,  too,  to  pull  out  of  a  rotten 


138  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

rut  that'll  sooner  or  later  land  you  among  the  chain- 
gang." 

Captain  Dove  came  forth  from  his  cabin,  indifferently 
clad,  and  eyed  Slyne  with  a  sarcastic  interest  which  some- 
what disconcerted  that  homilist. 

"  You  don't  look  just  like  a  Band  o'  Hope!  "  said  the 
old  man,  "  but  —  " 

Slyne  rose  again,  and  bit  his  lip,  in  simulated  impatience. 
"  Oh,  all  right,"  said  he.  "  If  you're  not  interested  —  " 

Captain  Dove  scowled  at  him.  "  I'm  interested,"  he 
said  grudgingly.  "  I'll  see  this  lawyer-fellow  of  yours 
whenever  you  like  to  bring  him  aboard,  and  —  if  the 
money's  there,  you  can  count  me  in." 

"  He  isn't  the  sort  of  lawyer  you've  been  accustomed 
to,  Dove,"  said  Slyne.  "  You've  got  to  go  to  him." 

Captain  Dove  did  his  best  to  out-stare  him,  but  failed. 

"  And  what's  more,"  said  Slyne,  playing  a  trump  card 
with  great  outward  indifference,  "  you  can  make  him  pay 
you  for  your  time  instead  of  you  paying  him.  I  told  you 
I  came  back  here  to  do  you  a  good  turn.  There's  more 
than  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  of  easy  money  for  you 
in  this  deal  —  if  you  go  the  right  way  about  it. 

"  But  —  don't  take  my  word  for  anything." 

Captain  Dove  had  palpable  difficulty  in  suppressing  the 
obvious  repartee  to  that  last  bit  of  advice.  But  cupidity 
and  cunning  kept  him  quiet  for  a  space. 

"  All  right.  I'll  go  with  you,"  he  agreed  very  gruffly 
at  last.  And  Slyne  heaved  a  silent  sigh  of  relief;  he  had 
feared  more  than  once  that  the  contest  of  wills  would  after 
all  go  against  him. 

"  You're  wise,"  he  commented  carelessly.  "  It  will 
pay  you. 


THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM  139 

"  You'd  better  see  Sallie  now,  don't  you  think,  and  tell 
her  —  " 

"  I'm  not  going  to  interfere  between  you  and  her  —  till 
I  get  my  money  from  you,"  declared  the  old  man  with  a 
crafty  grin.  "  You  must  tackle  her  yourself.  She'll  be 
up  by  now,  but  breakfast  won't  be  ready  for  half  an  hour. 
If  I  were  you  I'd  take  that  coat  off  and  let  her  have  a  sight 
of  those  diamonds  of  yours." 

Slyne  did  not  wait  to  hear  any  more.  He  was  already 
on  his  way  aft,  a  somewhat  incongruous  figure  on  the  decks 
of  the  Olive  Branch.  When  he  reached  the  companion- 
hatch  on  the  poop  he  was  smiling  sardonically. 

"  I  do  believe  it  was  my  '  diamonds  '  that  finally  fetched 
that  old  ruffian,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  If  they  have  the 
same  effect  on  Sallie,  I  won't  grudge  the  few  francs  I  paid 
for  them!  " 

He  tiptoed  down  the  short  stairway,  and,  having  tapped 
very  quietly  at  the  door  of  the  after-saloon,  entered  without 
more  ado.  He  judged  that  he  might  have  difficulty  in 
gaining  admission  if  he  delayed  to  ask  leave. 

The  saloon  was  empty.  But  from  an  adjoining  cabin 
came  the  sound  of  splashing,  and  from  its  neighbour  the 
shuffle  of  heavy  feet,  a  faint  suggestion  of  deft  hands  busy 
among  crisp  muslin  and  sibilant  silk. 

Slyne  hesitated;  he  wanted  to  be  very  tactful  and  yet 
was  unwilling  to  give  up  the  advantage  he  had  thus  gained. 
He  closed  the  door  carefully  behind  him.  It  creaked  a 
little. 

From  the  room  whence  had  come  the  rustle  of  feminine 
garments  an  uncanny-looking  figure  appeared,  and  darted 
an  angry,  apprehensive  glance  about  the  saloon.  The  sound 
of  splashing  had  ceased. 


140  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  '  Morning,  Ambrizette,"  said  Slyne  briskly  and  standing 
his  ground.  "  Is  your  mistress  up  yet?  Tell  her  I  have 
Captain  Dove's  leave  to  pay  her  a  call." 

The  dumb  black  dwarf's  scowl  grew  darker,  but  her  hand 
fell  away  from  her  breast  and  she  halted  as  Sallie's  voice 
sounded  from  within. 

"  Is  that  you,  Jasper!  "  it  ejaculated.  "  What  do  you 
want?  I  thought  —  " 

"  I've  come  back  —  with  good  news  for  you,  Sallie  — 
wonderful  news!  "  said  Slyne.  "  And  I'm  in  no  end  of  a 
hurry  to  be  off  again.  Call  Ambrizette  in  and  get  dressed, 
as  quick  as  you  can.  Captain  Dove's  waiting  breakfast 
for  me  and  I  mustn't  delay  him.  How  long  will  you  be?  " 

"  What  sort  of  news  is  it?  "  asked  Sallie,  no  less  dubious 
than  her  maid  had  been;  and  called  her  maid  in,  notwith- 
standing her  well-founded  doubts  as  to  the  nature  of  any 
news  he  could  bring.  For  Slyne  had  held  out  to  her  the 
same  lure  that  the  serpent  offered  to  Eve,  and  her  womanly 
curiosity  would  not  allow  her  to  order  him  at  once  from 
her  domain. 

Slyne  smiled  slightly  as  he  sat  down  in  a  basket-chair, 
to  look  about  him  while  she  was  still  busy  within.  The 
little  after-saloon  which  had  been  her  home  for  so  long  was 
finely  furnished;  more  so,  perhaps,  than  was  apparent  to 
Slyne,  whose  taste  in  that  respect  inclined  to  the  florid. 
But  he  could  not  help  noticing  how  dainty  and  neat  and 
feminine  was  its  entire  effect,  with  its  cushioned  cosy  cor- 
ners, snow-white  curtains  and  draperies.  Its  purely  fra- 
grant atmosphere  stirred  even  Slyne's  conscience  a  little. 

He  lay  back  in  his  seat,  and,  gazing  about  him,  recalled 
to  mind  all  he  had  been  able  to  learn  as  to  Sallie's  strange 
past.  It  all  fitted  in  so  perfectly  with  the  fabric  of  his 


THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM  141 

wonderful  new  plans  that  he  could  find  no  possible  flaw  in 
them.  And  when  Sallie  herself  at  length  came  out  to  him 
from  her  cabin,  he  was  optimistically  disposed  to  be  very 
generous  in  his  dealings  with  her. 

Fresh  from  her  bath  and  doubly  bewitching  in  her  cling- 
ing, intimate  draperies,  she  met  Slyne's  glad,  eager  glance 
with  grave,  doubtful  eyes,  and  ignored  entirely  the  hand 
he  held  out  to  her  as  he  sprang  from  his  chair.  But  he 
affected  not  to  notice  her  attitude  of  distrust,  and,  greeting 
her  gaily,  saved  his  face  by  laying  his  outstretched  hand 
on  another  chair,  which  he  set  a  little  nearer  his  own. 

"  Won't  you  sit  down?  "  he  suggested  with  debonair 
courtesy. 

But  she  shook  her  head;  she  was  evidently  afraid  to  re- 
ceive him  on  any  such  friendly  footing.  She  did  not  even 
care  to  ask  him  what  he  was  doing  in  evening  dress  at  break- 
fast-time and  on  board  the  Olive  Branch.  But  in  her  troubled 
eyes  he  could  read  that  unspoken  inquiry. 

"  I've  been  travelling  all  night  to  get  back  to  you, 
Sallie,"  he  told  her,  in  a  low,  eager  tone,  "  and  I  hadn't 
time  to  change  —  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  tell  you  the 
news.  I've  come  to  take  you  away  from  the  Olive  Branch, 
—  and  Captain  Dove.  I've  come  to  set  you  free." 

She  stared  at  him  as  though  she  had  not  heard  aright, 
her  lips  parted,  her  eyebrows  arched,  a  faint,  puzzled, 
questioning  frown  on  her  forehead. 

"  I've  come  to  set  you  free,"  he  said  again. 

"  At  what  price?  "  she  asked  suddenly,  with  disconcert- 
ing directness,  and  his  would-be  straightforward  glance 
wavered. 

"  Don't  put  it  that  way!  "  he  urged.  "  I  ask  no  more 
than  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  you  made  me.  And  — 


142  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

listen,  Sallie.  I've  found  out  who  you  really  are  and  where 
your  home  is.  I'll  take  you  there  if  only  you  - 

"  I'm  not  asking  you  to  marry  me  right  away,  either, 
remember.  All  you  must  do  in  the  meantime  is  to  sign 
without  question  some  papers  that  will  be  required.  Then 
I'll  make  everything  quite  safe  for  you  and  take  you  to 
your  own  home." 

The  quick  doubt  in  her  eyes  had  given  place  to  an  ex- 
pression of  helpless  amazement  and  growing  dismay. 
But  he  did  not  wait  to  hear  anything  she  might  have  to 
say. 

"  It's  like  this,  you  see,"  he  went  on  hurriedly.  "  Cap- 
tain Dove's  absolutely  at  the  end  of  his  wits  for  money, 
and  now  —  I  can  pay  him  his  price  for  you  if  you'll  keep 
your  promise  to  me  by  and  by.  Otherwise  I  can't;  no 
matter  how  willing  I  might  be,  I  can't,  I  swear  to  you. 

"  He  feels,  too,  that  you  owe  it  to  him  to  make  up  in 
one  way  or  another  for  some  part  at  least  of  what  he  and 
I  have  lost  through  your  —  your  interfering  so  much  lately 
in  his  affairs.  And,  if  you  don't  back  me  up  now,  he'll 
have  to  take  the  Olive  Branch  East  as  best  he  can.  He'll 
take  you  too,  and  —  you'll  never  come  back. 

"  You  don't  understand.  I'm  not  really  trying  to  force 
you  to  marry  me,  but  to  save  you  from  a  fate  far  worse 
than  the  worst  you  could  imagine.  You  don't  understand 
that  it's  really  freedom  I'm  offering  you,  and  that  your 
only  option  is  slavery. 

"You'd  rather  have  a  white  man  —  even  me!  —  for 
your  husband,  wouldn't  you?  than  a  yellow  one  —  or 
brown  —  or  maybe  black!  " 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  MASTERSTROKE 

SALLIE  sat  down  quickly  in  a  cushioned  chair,  and 
lay  back,  trembling  like  a  captured  bird. 

Slyne  was  not  beyond  feeling  somewhat  ashamed  of 
himself,  but  found  easy  solace  in  the  reflection  that  all  he 
had  said  was  for  her  good  as  well  as  his  own.  He  could 
see  that  his  last  brutal  argument  had  struck  home.  For 
Sallie  could  no  longer  doubt,  now,  in  the  lurid  light  of  her 
recent  experiences,  that  Captain  Dove  looked  upon  her  as 
a  mere  chattel,  to  be  turned  into  cash  as  soon  as  occasion 
should  offer. 

In  a  little  she  looked  up  at  him  again  out  of  pleading, 
desperate  eyes.  Some  most  unusual  impulse  of  pity  stirred 
him.  She  was  only  a  young  girl  yet,  and  her  helplessness 
spoke  its  own  appeal,  even  to  him.  He  made  up  his  mind 
again,  quite  apart  from  any  question  of  policy,  to  deal 
with  her  as  generously  as  might  be  practicable. 

"  Will  Captain  Dove  let  me  go  now  if  I  promise  to  marry 
you,  Jasper?  "  she  asked.  And  he  nodded  solemnly. 

"  And  not  unless  I  do?  "  she  insisted.  "  You  know  I 
didn't  —  before,  although  you  say  I  did." 

"  I  swear  to  God,  Sallie,"  he  declared,  "  that  I  can't 
raise  the  money  the  Old  Man  wants  any  other  way.    And 
- 1  won't  say  another  word  about  what's  past  and  done 
with. 


144  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  If  you'll  really  promise  to  marry  me,"  he  said  eagerly, 
"  I'll  prove  to  you  that  all  I  have  told  you  is  true  before 
you  need  even  leave  Captain  Dove;  I  won't  ask  you  to 
go  a  step  farther  with  me  until  you're  perfectly  satisfied; 
I'll  take  you  safely  to  your  own  home  as  soon  as  you  are 
satisfied  that  you  can  trust  me.  And  I  won't  ask  you  to 
keep  your  promise  till  —  " 

An  irrepressible  light  of  longing  had  leaped  up  behind 
the  despair  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  say  that  all  I  must  do  in  the  meantime  is  to  sign 
some  papers,"  she  interrupted.  "  You  say  you  won't 
ask  me  to  marry  you  right  away.  Will  you  wait  —  a 
year?  " 

"  A  year!  I  couldn't,  Sallie!  "  he  cried,  and  her  pale 
lips  drooped  piteously  again. 

"  How  long,  then?  "  she  asked  in  a  whisper.  "  Six 
months?  " 

He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  be  generous,  and  he  felt  that 
he  had  not  failed  in  his  intention  as  he  answered,  "  Three 
months,  and  not  a  day  longer,  Sallie." 

She  sat  still  and  silent  for  a  while,  considering  that, 
and  then,  "  All  right,  Jasper,"  she  agreed.  "  Take  me 
safe  home,  and  I'll  marry  you  three  months  from  the 
day  we  get  there  —  if  we're  both  alive  when  the  time 
comes." 

He  turned  away  from  her  for  a  moment.  He  had  won 
all  he  wanted  in  the  meantime,  and  he  could  scarcely  con- 
tain himself.  When  he  presently  held  out  a  hand  to  her, 
she  took  it,  to  bind  that  bargain. 

"  And  you  won't  have  any  cause  to  regret  it.  Sallie," 
he  assured  her,  his  voice  somewhat  hoarse  in  spite  of  his 
effort  to  speak  quite  naturally. 


A  MASTERSTROKE  145 

"  So  now,  as  soon  as  you're  ready,  we'll  all  go  ashore 
together,  and  —  " 

"  I'll  be  ready  in  twenty  minutes,"  she  told  him,  clasping 
her  hands  at  her  heart,  her  eyes  very  eager.  "  And,  Jasper 
—  you  must  let  me  take  Ambrizette  with  me." 

"  You're  free  now  to  do  as  you  like,"  he  answered,  and 
left  her.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  treading  on  air  on  his  way 
back  to  the  mid-ship  saloon. 

Captain  Dove,  in  the  same  neglige  costume,  was  busy 
at  breakfast  when  Slyne  walked  in  upon  him  again,  but 
looked  up  from  his  plate  for  long  enough  to  mumble  a 
malicious  question. 

"  Yes,  I've  fixed  it  all  up  with  her,"  Slyne  answered 
with  assumed  nonchalance.  "  You  can  always  trust  me 
to  know  how  to  handle  a  woman,  Dove." 

Captain  Dove  shot  a  derisive  glance  in  his  direction. 
"  Is  she  willing  to  marry  you  after  all,  then?  "  he  demanded, 
feigning  a  surprise  by  no  means  complimentary. 

"  Not  just  at  once,  of  course,"  returned  his  companion, 
and  left  the  old  man  to  infer  whatever  he  pleased. 

In  response  to  a  shouted  order  of  Captain  Dove's  a 
slatternly  cook-steward  brought  Slyne  a  steaming  platter 
of  beans  with  a  bit  of  bacon-rind  on  top,  and  an  enamelled 
mug  containing  a  brew  which  might,  by  courtesy,  have  been 
called  coffee.  There  was  a  tray  of  broken  ship's  biscuits, 
a  tin  containing  some  peculiarly  rank  substitute  for  butter, 
upon  the  table,  with  the  other  equally  uninviting  concomi- 
tants of  a  meagre  meal. 

"  Tchk-tchk!  "  commented  Slyne,  and  sat  down  to  satisfy 
his  hunger  as  best  he  might;  while  Captain  Dove,  having 
overheard  that  criticism,  eyed  him  inimically,  and  proceeded 
to  puff  a  peculiarly  rank  cigar  in  his  face. 


146  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  You  might  as  well  be  getting  dressed  now,"  said  Slyne 
indifferently.  "  By  the  time  I'm  through  here,  Sallie  will 
be  ready  to  go  ashore." 

Captain  Dove  looked  very  fiercely  at  him,  but  without 
effect. 

"  Sallie  won't  stir  a  step  from  the  ship,"  the  old  man 
affirmed,  "  till  you've  handed  over  the  cash." 

Slyne  looked  up,  in  mild  surprise. 

"But,  dear  me!  Dove,"  he  remarked,  "you  don't 
expect  that  the  London  lawyer's  going  to  take  my  word  for  a 
girl  he's  never  even  seen?  Until  he's  satisfied  on  that  point, 
he  won't  endorse  my  note  to  you.  So  we've  got  to  take 
her  along  with  us.  I'm  doing  my  best  to  give  you  a  square 
deal;  and  all  I  ask  in  return  is  a  square  deal  from  you." 

"  You'd  better  not  try  any  crooked  games  with  me," 
growled  Captain  Dove,  and  sat  for  a  time  sunk  in  obviously 
aggravating  reflections. 

"If  we  get  on  his  soft  side,"  suggested  Slyne  insid- 
iously, "  there's  no  saying  how  much  more  we  might  both 
make." 

Captain  Dove  rose  and  retired  into  his  sleeping-cabin 
without  further  words;  while  Slyne,  picking  out  with  a 
two-pronged  fork  the  cleanest  of  the  beans  on  his  plate, 
smiled  sneeringly  to  himself. 

"  What's  the  latest  long-shore  fashion,  Slyne?  "  the  old 
man  asked  after  an  interval.  Slyne  knew  by  his  tone  that 
he  had  dismissed  dull  care  from  his  mind  and  was  prepared 
to  be  quarrelsome  again. 

"  It  wouldn't  suit  a  figure  like  yours,"  he  answered 
coolly,  and  was  gratified  to  hear  another  hoarse  growl. 
For,  strange  though  it  may  seem,  Captain  Dove  was  not 
without  vanity.  "  All  you  really  need  to  worry  about  is 


A  MASTERSTROKE  147 

how  to  keep  sober.    And  I  want  it  to  be  understood  from 
the  start  —  " 

"  Not  so  much  of  it  now!  "  snarled  Captain  Dove  from 
his  cabin.  "  You  attend  to  your  own  business  —  and  I'll 
attend  to  mine.  I  know  how  to  behave  myself  —  among 
gentlemen.  And,  don't  you  forget,  either,  that  I'm  going 
ashore  to  play  my  own  hand.  I've  a  card  or  two  up  my 
sleeve,  Mister  Slyne,  that  will  maybe  euchre  your  game 
for  you  —  if  you  try  to  bluff  too  high." 

Slyne  swore  hotly,  under  his  breath.  He  would  have 
given  a  great  deal  to  know  exactly  what  the  old  man  meant 
by  that  mysterious  threat,  and  cnly  knew  that  it  would 
be  useless  to  ask  him.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  put 
up  with  his  capricious  humours,  as  patiently  as  might 
be  —  although  Slyne  shivered  in  anticipation  of  the  strain 
that  might  entail  —  till  he  could  be  dispensed  with  or 
got  rid  of  altogether. 

Nor,  as  it  presently  appeared,  were  his  fears  at  all  ill- 
founded.  For  Captain  Dove  emerged  from  his  cabin  got 
up  for  shore-going  in  a  guise  at  sight  of  which  Slyne  could 
by  no  means  suppress  an  involuntary  groan. 

"  I'm  all  ready  now,"  Captain  Dove  announced.  "  Will 
you  pay  for  a  cab  if  I  call  one?  " 

"  My  car's  waiting,"  Slyne  returned,  and,  as  the  old 
man  whistled  amazedly  over  that  further  and  unexpected 
proof  that  his  former  accomplice's  fortunes  had  changed 
for  the  better,  "  You  look  like  a  fool  in  that  outfit,"  said 
Slyne.  "  The  right  rig-out  for  motoring  is  a  tweed  suit 
and  a  soft  cap." 

Captain  Dove  was  very  visibly  annoyed.  He  had  been 
at  particular  pains  to  array  himself  properly.  "  You  want 
to  be  the  only  swell  in  the  party,  of  course!  "  he  grunted. 


148  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  You're  jealous,  that's  what's  the  matter  with  you." 
And  he  fell  to  polishing  his  furry,  old-fashioned  top-hat 
with  a  tail  of  the  scanty,  ill-fitting  frock-coat  he  had 
donned  along  with  a  noisome  waistcoat  in  honour  of  the 
occasion. 

Slyne  shrugged  his  shoulders,  despairingly,  and,  having 
made  an  end  of  his  unappetising  meal,  prepared  for  the 
road.  Then  he  lighted  a  cigar  very  much  at  his  leisure, 
while  Captain  Dove  regarded  him  grimly,  and  led  the  way 
on  deck  without  further  words. 

Sallie  was  ready  and  waiting  at  the  companion-hatch 
on  the  poop,  as  pretty  as  a  picture  in  the  sables  Captain 
Dove  had  given  her  a  year  before  —  after  a  very  lucrative 
season  of  poaching  on  the  Siberian  coast.  As  soon  as  she 
caught  sight  of  them  she  came  forward,  followed  by  Am- 
brizette,  whose  appearance,  in  cloak  and  turban,  was  even 
a  worse  offence  to  Slyne's  fastidious  taste  than  Captain 
Dove's  had  been. 

"  What  a  calamitous  circus!  "  he  muttered  between  set 
teeth.  "  I  must  get  rid  of  those  two  somehow  —  and  soon. 
But  till  then  - 

"  My  car's  at  the  back  of  those  coal- wagons  there," 
he  told  Captain  Dove  with  great  dignity,  and  Captain  Dove 
turned  to  the  engine-room  hatch. 

"  Below  there!  "  he  called  down.  "  Is  that  Mr.  Brasse? 
I'm  off  now,  Brasse.  You'll  carry  out  all  my  instructions, 
eh?  And  —  don't  quarrel  with  Da  Costa,  d'ye  hear?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  answered  a  dreary  voice  from  the  depths 
below,  and  Captain  Dove  faced  about  again  to  find  Sallie, 
flushed  and  anxious,  waiting  with  Ambrizette  at  the  gang- 
way. 

"  Come  on,"  he  ordered  irascibly,  and  Sallie  followed  him 


A  MASTERSTROKE  149 

down  the  plank.  Ambrizette  shuffled  fearfully  after  her, 
and  Slyne  came  last,  his  chin  in  the  air,  triumphant. 

He  led  the  way  to  his  car,  and  was  gratified  to  observe 
its  salutary  effect  on  Captain  Dove's  somewhat  contemptu- 
ous demeanour.  The  little  policeman  in  charge  of  it  pend- 
ing its  opulent  owner's  return,  came  forward,  touching 
his  kepi,  which  further  impressed  Captain  Dove,  uncom- 
fortably. Slyne  handed  Sallie  into  the  tonneau,  and  Am- 
brizette after  her,  tossed  the  policeman  a  further  tip  which 
secured  his  everlasting  esteem,  took  his  own  seat  at  the 
wheel,  and  was  hastily  followed  by  Captain  Dove. 

"  Where  are  we  bound  for?  "  asked  Captain  Dove, 
holding  his  top-hat  on  with  both  hands,  as  Slyne  took  the 
road  toward  Sampierdarena  at  a  round  pace. 

"  Don't  talk  to  the  man  at  the  wheel,"  answered  Slyne, 
and  laughed.  "  We've  a  hundred  miles  or  so  ahead  of  us. 
Better  chuck  that  old  tile  of  yours  away  and  tie  a 
handkerchief  round  your  head;  you'll  find  that  less 
uncomfortable." 

The  old  man,  at  a  loss  for  any  more  effective  retort, 
pulled  his  antiquated  beaver  down  almost  to  his  ears, 
folded  his  long  arms  across  the  chest  of  his  flapping  frock- 
coat,  and  sat  silent,  scowling  at  the  baggy  umbrella  between 
his  knees.  Nor  did  he  open  his  mouth  again  during  the 
swift  journey. 

But  when  they  at  length  reached  their  destination  and 
Slyne  stopped  the  car  quietly  before  the  imposing  pile  that 
forms  the  Hotel  de  Paris,  Captain  Dove's  jaw  dropped  and 
his  mouth  opened  mechanically. 

A  resplendent  porter  came  hurrying  forward  and  bowed 
most  humbly  to  the  magnificent  Slyne. 

"  Take  this  lady  and  her  maid  straight  up  to  the  suite 


150  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

next  mine,"  ordered  Slyne  as  Sallie  alighted,  while  Captain 
Dove  listened,  all  ears.  "  And  ask  Mr.  Jobling  to  join  me 
in  my  sitting-room.  He's  still  here,  I  suppose?  " 

He  gave  vent  to  a  heartfelt  sigh  of  relief  as  the  man, 
already  preceding  his  charges  indoors,  paused  to  answer 
in  the  affirmative. 

"  I  needn't  book  a  room  for  you,"  he  told  Captain  Dove, 
with  calculated  indifference.  "  But  Sallie  must  have  some- 
where to  leave  Ambrizette. 

"  Hey!  you.  Call  my  chauffeur  to  take  the  car  round 
to  the  garage." 

Captain  Dove  followed  him  toward  the  bureau,  attract- 
ing not  a  few  glances  of  mingled  surprise  and  amusement 
from  the  elaborate  idlers  in  its  neighbourhood.  Slyne  was 
furious. 

"  I  can't  have  him  tagging  about  after  me  in  that  ghastly 
get-up!  "  he  told  himself  on  the  way  to  the  elevator;  and 
cuffed  the  elevator-boy's  ears  at  the  sound  of  a  mirthful 
sneeze  with  which  that  unfortunate  youth  had  become 
afflicted.  "  Though  how  the  deuce  I'm  to  help  myself 
I  don't  know." 

In  the  corridor  at  which  they  got  out  he  caught  sight 
of  Mr.  Jobling  approaching,  and  hurried  Captain  Dove 
into  the  sitting-room  of  his  suite. 

"  Give  me  five  minutes  to  change  my  clothes,"  he  re- 
quested of  the  old  man.  "  And  don't  get  straying  about, 
or  you'll  lose  yourself." 

Mr.  Jobling  met  him  on  the  threshold  as  he  shut  the  door. 
That  gentleman  had  marvellously  recovered  from  his 
over-night's  nervous  break-down.  A  sound  sleep,  a  visit 
from  the  barber,  a  bath  and  a  liberal  breakfast  had  all 
helped  to  alter  him  outwardly  and  inwardly  for  the  better. 


A  MASTERSTROKE  151 

He  was  once  more  the  respectably  prosperous,  self-confident 
solicitor. 

"  I  believe  you've  been  out  all  night,"  he  observed  in 
a  jocular  tone  of  reproof,  a  waggish  forefinger  uplifted. 

"I've  covered  a  couple  of  hundred  miles  in  the  car  while 
you've  been  asleep,"  answered  Slyne,  turning  into  his 
dressing-room.  "  I've  brought  the  girl  back  with  me  — 
and  the  old  man,  her  guardian.  We're  going  to  have  trouble 
with  him  unless  we're  very  careful.  So  listen,  and  I'll 
tell  you  how  things  stand." 

Mr.  Jobling  composed  his  features  into  their  most  pro- 
fessional aspect,  but  that  gave  place  by  degrees  to  a  variety 
of  other  expressions,  while  Slyne,  busy  changing  his  clothes, 
related  all  he  himself  knew  as  to  Sallie's  past  history. 

"  And  now  the  old  man  thinks  he  is  entitled  to  put  a 
price  on  her,"  Slyne  concluded.  "  She's  promised  to  marry 
me,  but  he  won't  let  her  go  till  I  hand  him  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars." 

Mr.  Jobling  lay  back  limply  in  his  chair.  In  all  his 
career  he  had  never,  he  asserted,  heard  a  more  scandalous 
suggestion. 

"  Never  mind  about  that,"  Slyne  cut  him  short.  "The 
money's  no  object  to  me.  But  you  can  understand  what 
a  difficult  fellow  he  is  to  deal  with.  And  what  I'm  going  to 
do,  merely  as  a  precaution  against  his  playing  us  false 
in  the  end,  is  to  give  him  my  note  of  hand  for  the  amount 
he  demands,  endorsed  by  you,  and  payable  the  day  I 
marry  his  adopted  daughter." 

Mr.  Jobling  sank  still  lower  in  his  seat. 

"  In  return  for  that,"  Slyne  went  on,  "  he  must  sign  a 
clear  deliverance  from  any  further  claim  on  any  of  us, 
subject,  of  course,  to  due  payment' of  the  note. 


152  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  Then,  I  want  a  document  drawn  up  to  confirm  my  en- 
gagement to  the  girl  and  granting  me  the  fullest  possible 
power  of  attorney  on  her  behalf  both  before  and  after  our 
marriage.  She's  so  simple  and  inexperienced  that  I  must 
do  everything  for  her. 

"  And,  lastly,  you'd  better  make  out  a  brief  private 
agreement  between  yourself  and  me  —  just  as  a  matter 
of  form,  you  know  —  to  the  effect  that  you  are  willing  to 
act  in  my  interests  throughout,  in  return  for  a  commission 
of  ten  per  cent,  on  the  accumulated  revenues  of  the  Jura 
estates  at  the  date  of  my  marriage." 

Mr.  Jobling  looked  at  him  for  a  time  as  a  man  suddenly 
bereft  of  his  spine  might. 

"  There's  no  time  to  spare,"  Slyne  mentioned.  "  I 
want  all  that  sort  of  thing  settled  right  off  the  reel  — 
before  lunch. 

"  If  the  old  man  makes  any  kick  about  anything,  you 
must  back  me  up  in  all  I  say.  Although  if  he  tries  to  raise 
his  price  by  a  few  thousand  dollars,  we  needn't  stick  at 
that.  The  great  thing  is  to  get  him  to  sign  the  deliverance 
in  return  for  our  note.  The  girl  has  already  agreed  — 

"  And  what  if  I  refuse?  "  croaked  his  companion  with 
the  courage  of  desperation.  It  was  evident  that  Mr. 
Jobling  saw  through  his  daring  scheme.  "  What  if  I  in- 
sist on  my  fair  share?  What  if  I  - 

Slyne  silenced  him  with  a  contemptuous  gesture. 

"  Whatever  you  do  will  make  no  difference  to  anyone 
in  the  wide  world  but  yourself,"  said  Slyne.  "  If  you  do 
what  you're  told  you'll  get  a  great  deal  more  than  you  de- 
serve out  of  it.  If  you  don't  —  D'ye  think  I'd  have  taken 
you  into  the  team  if  I  didn't  know  how  to  drive  you!  " 
he  asked,  his  eyes  beginning  to  blaze.  "  Why,  my  good 


A  MASTERSTROKE  153 

fellow,  if  you  refuse,  if  you  don't  travel  up  to  your  collar, 
if  you  so  much  as  shy  at  anything  you  see  or  hear  —  I 
won't  even  hurt  you;  I'll  just  hand  you  over  to  the  police. 

"  So  make  up  your  mind  now,  quick!  " 

"  You've  nothing  against  me,"  quavered  the  lawyer. 

"  No,  I've  nothing  —  not  very  much,  at  least,  yet," 
Slyne  agreed,  knotting  his  tie  neatly  before  the  glass. 
"  But  —  that  may  be  because  you  haven't  embezzled  any 
of  my  money  —  yet."  He  had  most  opportunely  recalled 
what  the  detective  Dubois  had  told  him  about  his  new 
friend. 

Mr.  Jobling's  face  was  almost  green.  He  got  up  with  an 
evident  effort. 

"  I  was  only  joking,"  he  declared  with  a  most  ghastly 
grin.  "  I'll  be  quite  satisfied  with  ten  per  cent,  of  the  ac- 
cumulated income  —  in  fact,  we'll  call  it  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds,  if  you  like." 

"  All  right,"  Slyne  agreed  imperturbably.  "  Make  it 
that  amount  if  you'd  rather.  How  long  will  it  take  you 
to  get  the  papers  drawn  out?  It's  nearly  one  o'clock. 
And  —  you  won't  be  safe  till  they're  signed." 

"  An  hour,"  said  Mr.  Jobling.     "  I'm  a  quick  writer." 

"  All  right,"  Slyne  repeated.     "  We'll  lunch  at  two  - 
after  they're  all  signed.    So  —  off  you  go,  and  get  busy." 

The  stout  solicitor  hurried  away,  cowed  and  obedient 
again,  and  Slyne,  very  smart  in  an  almost  new  flannel 
suit,  rejoined  Captain  Dove. 

"  I'm  too  fashionable,  that's  what's  the  matter  with 
me!  "  declared  Captain  Dove  with  sudden  conviction  at 
sight  of  him,  and  gazed  very  bitterly  at  his  own  image  in 
an  inconvenient  mirror. 

"  Never  mind  about  that,"  Slyne  advised  soothingly. 


154  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  It's  not  as  if  you  were  staying  here,  you  know.  You'll 
be  back  on  board  your  ship  by  supper-time.  And  now,  I 
must  tell  you  how  we've  got  to  handle  this  lawyer-fellow 
when  he  fetches  in  the  raft  of  papers  he'll  want  us  all  to 
sign." 

Captain  Dove  listened  gloomily  while  he  went  on  to 
explain,  at  considerable  length,  and  in  his  most  convincing 
manner,  that  they  must  match  their  combined  wits  against 
the  lawyer's  for  their  own  profit. 

"  It's  not  that  I  don't  trust  him,"  said  Slyne,  "  but  - 
I'll  feel  more  secure  after  everything's  settled  in  writing 
and  signed.     He  can't  go  back  on  us  then." 

"  He'd  better  not!  "  Captain  Dove  commented.  "  I'll 
wring  his  neck  for  him  if  he  tries  —  ' 

"  And,  as  for  Sallie,"  Slyne  cut  him  short,  "  I've  made 
things  quite  - 

"  Sallie  will  do  whatever  I  tell  her,"  growled  Captain 
Dove.  "  And  don't  you  attempt  to  interfere  between  me 
and  her  —  till  you've  paid  me  my  money,  Slyne.  Where 
is  she?  Fetch  her  in  here." 

Slyne  had  no  farther  to  go  to  do  that  than  to  the  next 
room,  where  he  found  Sallie  at  the  window,  gazing  pen- 
sively out  at  the  sea.  But  he  delayed  there  for  some  time 
to  make  it  still  more  clear  to  her  that  her  only  hope  of 
helping  herself  lay  in  abetting  him  blindly. 

When  he  at  length  returned  to  his  own  sitting-room 
with  her,  he  found  Captain  Dove  staring  fixedly  at  another 
arrival  there,  an  overwhelmingly  up-to-date  if  rather  im- 
becile-looking young  man,  whose  general  gorgeousness, 
combined  with  a  very  vacant,  fish-like  eye  much  magnified 
by  a  monocle,  had  evidently  reduced  the  would-be  fash- 
ionable seaman  to  a  stricken  silence. 


A  MASTERSTROKE  155 

Slyne,  who  had  at  first  shot  a  most  malevolent  glance 
at  the  intruder,  was  stepping  forward  to  greet  him  just 
as  Mr.  Jobling  put  in  an  appearance  with  a  sheaf  of  papers 
in  one  hand. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Lord  Ingoldsby?  "  said  Slyne  quite 
suavely  to  the  young  man  with  the  eye-glass.  He  had 
caught  sight  of  Mr.  Jobling  in  the  doorway,  and  turned  to 
Sallie,  his  quick  mind  bent  on  a  masterstroke. 

"  May  I  introduce  to  you  the  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby," 
he  remarked  to  her  in  the  monotone  of  convention;  and, 
as  she  bowed  slightly  in  response  to  that  very  modern 
young  gentleman's  ingratiating  wriggle  and  grin,  Slyne, 
one  eye  on  Captain  Dove's  astonished  countenance,  com- 
pleted the  formality. 

"  This  is  Lady  Josceline  Justice,"  said  he  to  his  smirking 
lordship,  and  breathed  delicately  into  a  somewhat  ex- 
tensive ear  the  further  information,  "  the  late  Earl  of 
Jura's  daughter,  you  know  —  and  my  fiancee" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"  SALLIE  HARRIS  " 

SALLIE'S  j&rst  startled  impulse  was  to  deny  the  new 
identity  Slyne  had  so  glibly  bestowed  on  her.  It 
seemed  too  preposterous  to  be  believable;  and  she  was 
very  suspicious  of  him.  A  little  flushed,  more  than  a  little 
afraid,  and  yet  in  some  sense  convinced  in  spite  of  herself 
by  the  outward  and  visible  signs  about  her  that  all  these 
strange  happenings  must  have  at  least  some  foundation  of 
fact,  she  sought  to  read  the  others'  thoughts  in  their  faces. 

The  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  was  gaping  at  her,  in  open 
wonder  and  admiration.  Slyne's  features  wore  a  subdued 
expression  of  triumph,  and  Captain  Dove's  a  dazed,  in- 
credulous frown.  Mr.  Jobling  was  beaming  about  him,  so 
apparently  satisfied  with  her,  so  respectably  prosperous- 
looking  himself  that  her  doubts  as  to  Slyne's  good  faith 
began  to  give  way.  When  the  lawyer  was  hi  turn  presented 
to  her  and  also  addressed  her  by  that  new  name,  she  could 
scarcely  disclaim  it. 

"  You'll  stay  and  have  luncheon  with  us,  Lord  In- 
goldsby? "  Slyne  remarked,  touching  the  bell;  and  his 
lordship  left  off  gaping  at  Sallie  to  look  him  over  with  all 
the  solemn  sagacity  of  a  young  owl  in  broad  daylight. 

"  Er  —  all  right,"  his  lordship  at  length  agreed.  "  Don't 
mind  if  I  do. 

"  Though  I  have  some  —  er  —  friends  waitin'  for  me," 


"  SALLIE  HARRIS  "  157 

he  added  as  an  afterthought,  "  that  I  promised  to  take 
for  a  run  in  your  car,  if  —  ' 

"  You'll  have  time  enough  after  lunch,"  Slyne  suggested, 
and  drew  the  noble  marquis  toward  the  window. 

"  The  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby!  "  muttered  Captain  Dove. 
"  A  run  in  Slyne's  car!  And  — Lady  Josceline  Justice!  " 
He  dug  his  knuckles  forcibly  into  his  blinking  eyes,  and, 
"  I  seem  to  be  wide  enough  awake,"  said  he  in  a  stage  aside 
as  several  waiters  arrived  on  the  scene. 

While  they  were  setting  the  table  Sallie  tried  to  collect 
her  thoughts.  Slyne  had  told  her  nothing  till  then,  but 
that  he  had  found  out  who  her  folk  were.  And  she  had  come 
away  from  the  Olive  Branch  blindly,  only  a  little  less  dis- 
trustful of  him  than  of  Captain  Dove's  cruel  intentions 
toward  her  if  she  had  remained  on  board.  Even  now,  she 
scarcely  dared  to  believe  — 

In  response  to  a  sign  from  Slyne  she  took  her  place  at 
the  flower-decked  table.  The  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  im- 
mediately settled  himself  at  her  side;  he  also  was  obviously 
a  young  man  who  knew  what  he  wanted,  and  meant  to 
have  vthat  at  all  hazards  and,  while  the  others  were  seat- 
ing themselves,  he  ogled  her  killingly. 

Slyne  had  sat  down  at  her  other  hand,  leaving  Mr.  Job- 
ling  and  Captain  Dove  to  keep  one  another  company  be- 
hind the  great  silver  centre-piece  which  adorned  the  cir- 
cular table.  The  marquis,  leaning  on  one  elbow,  had  turned 
his  back  on  Mr.  Jobling,  and  Slyne  turned  his  on  Captain 
Dove. 

"  This  is  a  little  bit  of  all  right!  "  his  lordship  remarked 
to  Sallie,  with  a  confidential  grin.  "  Only  —  I  wish  — 
How  is  it  that  we  haven't  met  before,  Lady  Josephine? 
But  never  mind  that.  Let's  be  pals  now.  Shall  we,  eh?  " 


158  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I  don't  know,"  Sallie  answered  at  random  and  since 
he  seemed  to  expect  some  reply  to  that  fatuity.  She  had  met 
a  good  many  men  in  her  time,  but  never  one  quite  like 
this  Lord  Ingoldsby  —  who  actually  seemed  anxious  to 
look  and  act  like  a  cunning  fool. 

A  waiter  intervened  between  them.  But  his  lordship 
waved  that  functionary  away. 

"  Do  let's,"  he  implored  with  child-like  insistence.  "  It 
would  be  so  deevy  to  be  pals  with  you.  And  I'm  beastly 
dull  here,  all  by  myself,  don't  y'know.  So  — 

"  Eh?  "     He  glared  at  Slyne,  who  had  bluntly  inter- 
rupted his  tete-a-tete.     "  No,  I  don't  want  any  oysters  — 
I  told  that  waiter-chap  so.    And  I  don 't  know  any  '  lady 
of  the  camellias.'     I  can't  imagine  what  you're  talkin' 
about  at  all,  I'm  sure." 

"  I  saw  her  again  last  night,  at  the  Casino,"  said  Slyne, 
imperturbably,  and  went  on  to  entertain  Sallie  with  a 
long  if  not  over-truthful  account  of  his  own  over-night's 
doings  there.  So  that,  for  all  his  lordship's  lack  of  manners, 
it  was  some  time  before  that  spoiled  youth  again  succeeded 
in  monopolising  her  attention.  At  every  turn  Slyne  was 
ready  to  balk  him,  and,  but  for  his  native  self-conceit 
coupled  with  a  certain  blind  obstinacy,  he  must  very  soon 
have  understood  what  was  perfectly  plain  to  Sallie,  that 
he  was  there  merely  on  sufferance,  to  serve  some  purpose 
of  Slyne's. 

"  Coin'  to  be  here  long,  Lady  Josephine?  "  he  managed 
to  break  in  at  last.  Slyne  had  turned  to  give  a  departing 
waiter  some  order. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Sallie  answered  again,  since  she  could 
say  nothing  else. 

"  Hope  to  goodness  you  are,"  declared  his  lordship. 


"  SALLIE  HARRIS  "  159 

"Stay  for  a  week  or  two,  anyhow:  and,"  —  he  lowered 
his  voice  to  a  husky  whisper,  leaning  toward  her  —  "let 
me  trot  you  about  a  bit,  eh?  You'll  maybe  see  more  than 
enough  of  him  by  and  by!  "  He  indicated  Slyne  with  an 
eloquent  elbow,  and  further  expressed  his  sentiments  by 
means  of  an  ardent  sigh. 

Beyond  the  blossom-laden  epergne,  Mr.  Jobling  and 
Captain  Dove,  almost  cut  off  from  other  intercourse  by 
that  barrier,  were  exchanging  coldly  critical  glances. 
Neither  seemed  to  be  quite  at  his  ease  with  the  other,  and 
both  had,  of  course,  a  great  many  urgent  questions  to 
put  to  Slyne  as  soon  as  the  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  should  be 
gone.  So  that  the  luncheon-party  must  have  proved  a 
very  dull  affair  to  them,  and  they  were  no  doubt  glad  when 
it  was  over. 

Slyne  signalled  to  Sallie  as  soon  as  coffee  was  served, 
and  she  rose  to  leave  the  room.  She  was  quite  accustomed 
to  being  promptly  dispensed  with  whenever  her  company 
might  have  been  inconvenient. 

"  Oh,  I  say!  "  protested  Lord  Ingoldsby.  ''  You're 
not  goin'  yet,  Lady  J.  Half  a  mo'.  Won't  you  come  for 
a  spin  with  me  now  that  the  car's  mine?  Just  say  the  word 
and  I'll  drop  my  other  engagement.  And  then  we  could 
dine  at  —  " 

"  Lady  Josceline  will  be  engaged  with  her  lawyer  all 
afternoon,"  Slyne  cut  him  short  with  the  utmost  coolness, 
"  and  she's  leaving  Monte  Carlo  again  to-night." 

The  Marquis  of  Ingoldsby  glowered  at  him. 

"  I'll  see  you  in  Paris,  then,  Lady  J.,"  he  went  on,  point- 
edly ignoring  Slyne,  "  or  in  London,  at  least,  later  on. 
Well,  good-bye  —  if  you  must  be  goin'." 

He  bowed  her  out  of  the  room,  and  then,  snatching  up 


160  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

his  hat  and  cane  with  very  visible  annoyance,  included 
the  others  in  a  curt  nod  of  farewell  and  made  off 
himself. 

He  passed  her  before  she  had  closed  her  own  door  — 
and  would  gladly  have  paused  there. 

"  You  won't  forget  me,  will  you?  "  she  heard  him  ask 
eagerly  from  behind  her.  But  she  did  not  delay  to  answer 
that  question. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Slyne  knocked  at  her  door  and 
entered,  followed  by  the  other  two  men.  He  had  brought 
with  him  the  papers  which  Mr.  Jobling  had  prepared.  Mr. 
Jobling  carried  an  inkstand,  and  Captain  Dove  a  decanter 
of  brandy.  Slyne  seated  himself  at  the  table  and  waved 
Sallie  back  to  her  chair  by  the  window. 

"  We're  going  to  talk  business  for  a  few  minutes,"  he 
told  her,  "  and  then  get  every  thing  settled  in  writing  - 
to  keep  you  safe. 

"  Fire  ahead  now,  Dove.    You  want  to  know  —  " 

"  Is  Sallie  really  —  " 

"  7  don't  know  anyone  of  that  name  now.  D'you  mean 
Lady  Josceline?  " 

Captain  Dove  glared  at  him,  and  then  at  the  lawyer,  and 
then  at  Sallie  herself. 

"  Is  that  really  who  I  am  now,  Jasper?  "  she  asked,  a 
most  wistful  inflection  in  her  low  voice. 

"  You  needn't  believe  me"  he  answered  her.  "  Ask 
Mr.  Jobling.  He'll  tell  you." 

Mr.  Jobling  coughed  importantly.  "  I'll  tell  you  all  I 
know  myself,  Lady  Josceline,"  he  promised  her,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  repeat  in  part  what  he  had  told  Slyne  on  the 
terrace  the  night  before  concerning  the  Jura  family,  but 
without  a  single  word  of  the  fortune  awaiting  the 


"  SALLIE  HARRIS  "  161 

next  of  kin.  Captain  Dove's  face  expressed  the  extreme 
of  astonishment  as  he  too  sat  listening  with  the  closest 
attention. 

"  That's  as  far  as  my  present  knowledge  goes,"  the  lawyer 
finished  blandly.  "  And  now  —  I  understand  that  Captain 
Dove  is  prepared  to  supply  the  proof  required  in  conclu- 
sion. 

"  How  long  have  you  known  Lady  Josceline,  Captain 
Dove?  " 

Captain  Dove  frowned  as  if  in  deep  thought,  and  Slyne 
looked  very  crossly  at  him. 

"  About  three  quarters  of  an  hour,"  the  old  man  an- 
swered, and,  glancing  at  Slyne,  chuckled  hoarsely.  "  She's 
only  been  Lady  Josceline  for  so  long." 

Mr.  Jobling  nodded  understanding  and  the  creases  on  his 
fleshy  forehead  disappeared  again. 

"  And  before  that  —  ?  "  he  suggested,  politely  patient. 

"  Before  that  she  was  —  what  she  still  is  so  far's  I'm 
concerned  —  Saleh  Harez,  my  adopted  daughter." 

"  Sallie  —  Harris!  "  Mr.  Jobling  ejaculated.  "  Dear 
me!  Did  you  say  Sallie  —  er  —  Harris?  " 

"  I  said  Saleh  Harez,"  affirmed  Captain  Dove,  and  filled 
the  glass  at  his  elbow  again.  "  But  all  that  concerns  you,  so 
far's  I  can  see,  is  that  I've  known  her  ever  since  she  was 
knee-high  to  me.  I've  been  a  father  to  her  all  those  years, 
and  she's  my  adopted  daughter.  So  now,  you  can  take  it 
from  me,  Mr.  Jobson,  that  I'm  the  joker,  and  both  bowers 
too,  in  this  merry  little  game." 

"  Which  makes  it  all  the  more  unfortunate  for  you  that 
you  haven't  a  single  penny  to  stake  on  your  hand,"  Slyne 
put  in,  while  the  lawyer  looked  somewhat  blankly  from  one 
to  the  other  of  them.  "  So  —  don't  waste  any  more  time 


162  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

bluffing,  but  tell  Jobling  how  you  found  Sal — Lady 
Josceline." 

Captain  Dove  darted  a  very  evil  look  at  his  friendly 
adviser.  "  And  what  if  I  refuse?  "  he  asked. 

Slyne  almost  smiled.  "  Why  cut  off  your  own  nose  to 
spite  your  face?  "  he  returned.  "  You  won't  refuse,  be- 
cause it  would  cost  you  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to 
do  so." 

Captain  Dove  stroked  his  chin  contemplatively,  and 
his  face  slowly  cleared. 

"  A  hundred  and  fifty  thousand,  you  mean,"  he  said  in 
a  most  malevolent  tone. 

Slyne  got  up  from  the  table  as  if  in  anger,  and  for  some 
time  they  two  wrangled  over  that  point,  the  stout  solicitor 
gazing  at  them  with  evident  dismay,  while  Sallie  awaited 
the  upshot  of  it  all  with  bated  breath.  She  knew  it  was 
over  the  price  to  be  paid  for  her  that  they  were  disputing, 
but  that  knowledge  had  ceased  to  be  any  novelty.  The 
wrathful  voices  of  the  two  disputants  seemed  to  come  from 
a  great  distance.  She  felt  as  if  the  whole  affair  were  a 
dream  from  which  she  might  at  any  moment  awake  on 
board  the  Olive  Branch  again. 

"  There  isn't  money  enough  in  it  to  pay  you  so  much 
for  a  mere  affidavit,"  she  heard  Slyne  say,  and  Mr.  Job- 
ling,  under  his  glance,  confirmed  that  statement  emphat- 
ically. 

"  A  hundred  and  twenty-one  thousand  is  the  last  limit 
—  a  thousand  down,  to  bind  the  bargain,  and  the  balance 
the  day  of  my  wedding  with  Sallie,"  Slyne  declared.  "  If 
that  doesn't  satisfy  you  —  there's  nothing  more  to  be 
said.  And  I'll  maybe  find  other  means  - 

"  Show  me  even  the  first  thousand,"  requested  Captain 


"  SALLIE  HARRIS  "  163 

Dove,  and  Slyne  counted  out  on  to  the  table,  at  a  safe 
distance  from  the  old  man's  twitching  fingers,  five  thousand 
francs  of  the  amount  Lord  Ingoldsby  had  paid  him  for  his 
car. 

"  All  right,"  said  Captain  Dove  gruffly,  and  snatched 
at  the  notes.  But  Slyne  picked  them  up  again. 

"  As  soon  as  you've  given  Jobling  your  statement/'  he 
said,  "  and  signed  whatever  other  documents  he  may  think 
necessary,  I'll  hand  you  these  and  my  note  of  hand,  en- 
dorsed by  him,  for  the  balance  remaining  due  you." 

Mr.  Jobling  picked  up  a  pen  and  Slyne  pushed  a  sheet 
of  foolscap  toward  him.  Captain  Dove,  with  a  grunt  of 
disgust,  sat  back  in  his  chair  and,  while  the  lawyer  wrote 
rapidly,  related  how  he  had  found  Sallie. 

When  he  had  finished,  Mr.  Jobling  read  his  statement 
over  aloud,  and  chuckled  ecstatically.  His  own  eyes  were 
shining. 

"  That  settles  it,  Lady  Josceline,"  said  he  triumphantly, 
turning  to  Sallie.  "  I'll  stake  my  professional  reputation 
on  your  identity  now.  You  need  have  no  further  doubt  — 

"  And  just  to  clinch  the  matter,"  growled  Captain  Dove, 
"  you'd  better  add  this  to  your  affidavy :  —  The  clothes 
the  kid  was  wearing  when  I  fetched  her  off  that  dhow 
were  all  marked  with  the  moniker  '  J.  J.'  and  some  sort 
of  crest.  But  —  they  were  all  lost  when  the  ship  I  com- 
manded then  was  —  went  down  at  sea." 

Mr.  Jobling  groaned.  "How  very  unfortunate!"  he 
remarked  before  he  resumed  his  writing.  And  Slyne  stared 
fixedly  at  the  old  man  until  the  lawyer  had  finished. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Jobling,  adjusting  his  pince-nez  and 
beaming  about  him  again,  "  we  can  call  in  a  couple  of 
witnesses  and  —  " 


164  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  We'll  witness  each  other's  signatures."  Slyne  disagreed. 
"^Better  not  bring  in  any  outsiders." 

The  stout  solicitor  frowned  over  that,  but  finally  nodded 
concurrence.  And  Captain  Dove  took  the  pen  from  him, 
only  to  hand  it  to  Slyne. 

"  Gimme  my  thousand  dollars  and  your  joint  note  for 
the  balance  first,"  he  requested  unamiably. 

Slyne  signed  the  new  note  Mr.  Jobling  pushed  across 
the  table,  and  Mr.  Jobling  endorsed  it.  Captain  Dove 
read  it  over  carefully  before  he  pocketed  it,  and  also  counted 
with^great  caution  the  bills  Slyne  tossed  to  him.  Then 
he  in  his  turn  signed,  without  reading  it,  the  statement 
the  lawyer  had  drawn  up  from  his  dictation,  and  the  more 
lengthy  agreement  between  Sallie  and  Jasper  Slyne. 

Slyne  and  Jobling  added  their  names  to  that,  and  Slyne 
attached  his  careful  signature  to  a  promise  to  pay  the 
solicitor  the  percentage  agreed  upon.  Captain  Dove  wit- 
nessed it  and  then  called  Sallie  from  her  seat  in  the  window- 
alcove,  and  she  came  forward  with  anxious  eyes,  to  fulfil 
the  undertaking  she  had  finally  had  to  give  Jasper  Slyne 
as  the  price  of  his  help  in  her  most  unhappy  predicament. 

She  did  not  know  —  nor  did  she  greatly  care  then  — 
what  was  contained  in  the  contract  he  laid  before  her  with- 
out a  word.  She  took  from  him  without  demur  the  pen 
he  held  out  to  her.  She  had  promised  to  do  all  he  told  her 
and  give  him  whatever  he  asked  —  except,  for  the  present, 
herself. 

"  Sign  '  Josceline  Justice  '  at  the  foot  of  each  page,"  he 
said  gently,  and  she  did  so  without  a  word.  For  she  would 
not  for  all  the  world  contained  have  broken  any  promise 
she  had  given.  Then  Mr.  Jobling  desired  her  to  witness 
the  two  other  men's  signatures. 


"  SALLIE  HARRIS  "  165 

As  she  handed  him  back  the  pen  she  had  a  final  question 
to  ask  him. 

"  You  said  my  father  and  mother  are  both  dead,  and 
my  step-brother  too.  Is  there  no  one  else  - 

"  No  one  you  need  worry  about  in  the  least,"  he  assured 
her,  misunderstanding.  "  There  was  a  beggarly  American 
who  lodged  a  claim  to  the  title  and  • —  to  the  title;  his  name 
was  Carthew,  I  think  —  yes,  Justin  Carthew.  But  even  if 
I  —  if  he  hadn't  gone  and  got  lost  while  looking  for  you,  his 
claim  would  be  quite  ineffectual  no,v.  You're  your  father's 
daughter,  Lady  Josceline.  Justin  Carthew  was  a  dozen  or 
more  degrees  removed  fro.n  the  trunk  of  your  family  tree. 
He  had  only  the  faintest  tinge  of  blue  blood  in  his  veins. 
He  was  an  absolute  outsider.  We'll  hear  no  more  about 
him  now." 

"  You  mean  that  it's  an  absolutely  sure  thing  for  her," 
Captain  Dove  suggested,  and  Mr.  Jobling  looked  pained. 

"  I  can't  afford  to  risk  anything  on  uncertainties,  sir," 
he  answered  stiffly.  "  And  I'll  stake  my  professional  repu- 
tation on  —  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  about  all  that,"  Slyne  broke  in,  folding 
his  share  of  the  papers  together  and  pocketing  them.  "  The 
syndicate's  safely  floated.  And  now  —  as  to  our  next  move. 

"  You'd  better  get  away  back  to  Genoa  by  the  five  o'clock 
train,  Dove.  And  you  must  take  Ambrizette  with  you; 
I'll  get  Sal —  Lady  Josceline  another  maid  in  Paris  —  one 
who  won't  attract  quite  so  much  attention  to  us  as  that 
damned  dwarf  would. 

"  Jobling  and  I  will  go  on  there  by  the  night-mail,  on  our 
way  to  London  with  —  Lady  Josceline.  You  can  take  the 
Olive  Branch  round  to  some  safe  English  port  and  lay  her 
up  there  in  the  meantime.  As  soon  as  you  land,  you  can 


166  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

rejoin  us  —  at  Jobling's  address.  By  that  time  we'll  prob- 
ably be  ready  to  redeem  our  note  to  you." 

"  By  that  time,"  Captain  Dove  returned  with  concen- 
trated bitterness,  "  you'll  have  found  some  way  to  give  me 
the  slip  altogether.  D'ye  take  me  for  a  blind  idiot,  Slyne? 
D'ye  think  I'm  going  to  let  Sallie  out  of  my  sight,  with 
you?  " 

Slyne  was  visibly  disconcerted.  "  But  —  aren't  you  go- 
ing to  take  your  ship  round  to  England?  "  he  asked,  in 
genuine  surprise.  "  You  can't  very  well  leave  her  lying  in 
Genoa!  " 

"  I'll  attend  to  my  own  end  of  the  business,"  said  Cap- 
tain Dove  with  angry  decision.  "  If  you're  going  to  Lon- 
don by  train  to-night,  so  am  I.  If  you  like  to  come  back  on 
board  with  me,  I'll  sail  you  round.  But  I'm  not  the  only 
man  on  the  Olive  Branch  who  can  sail  a  ship.  Why,  I've 
half  a  dozen  broken  captains  —  and  most  of  'em  with  extra 
masters'  certificates,  too  —  among  my  crew. 

"I've  left  Brasse  and 'Da  Costa  in  charge,  and  they'll 
work  her  across  the  Bay  if  I  tell  them  to.  I've  only  to  send 
them  a  wire.  And  all  you  have  to  do  now  is  to  say  which 
way  you  want  to  travel  —  with  me;  for  I'm  going  to  stick 
to  you  like  a  leech  till  the  day  you  pay  me  off." 

Slyne  walked  to  the  window,  humming  a  tune.  But  it 
was  obviously  costing  him  all  of  his  refreshed  fortitude  to 
refrain  from  expressing  his  real  sentiments  toward  Captain 
Dove.  His  face,  as  he  stood  glaring  blindly  out  at  the 
beautiful  scene  before  him,  was  like  that  of  a  wild  beast 
balked  of  its  fair  prey.  But  from  between  his  bared,  set 
teeth  the  careless  hum  came  unbroken. 

"  I  think  you're  foolish,"  was  all  he  said  when  he  turned 
again,  convinced  that  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  argue 


"  SALLIE  HARRIS  "  167 

the  matter  with  the  old  man,  "  but  —  suit  yourself.  Job- 
ling  and  I  must  get  to  London  with  Sal —  Lady  Josceline 
at  the  earliest  possible  moment.  If  you  insist  on  travelling 
with  us  to-night  —  so  be  it.  All  I  want  you  to  understand 
is  that  there's  to  be  no  more  drinking,  and  that  you  must 
be  advised  by  me  in  every  other  particular.  This  isn't 
really  the  sort  of  game  you're  liable  to  shine  in.  It  would  be 
far  better  for  all  of  us  if  you'd  stay  on  board  your  ship." 

Captain  Dove's  weather-beaten  countenance  was  turn- 
ing slowly  purple.  He  was  striving  after  speech.  Slyne, 
outwardly  cool  and  contemptuous  of  his  visible  fury,  stood 
gazing  down  at  him,  hands  in  pockets.  Mr.  Jobling  was 
wriggling  restlessly  in  his  chair,  glancing  from  one  to  the 
other,  prepared  to  flee  from  the  coming  storm. 

Still  without  a  word,  Captain  Dove  reached  again  for 
the  brandy-decanter,  directly  defying  Slyne.  Slyne  stepped 
forward  and  snatched  it  out  of  his  hand. 

Simultaneously,  the  old  man  and  Mr.  Jobling  sprang 
from  their  seats,  the  former  making  for  Slyne  and  the  latter 
for  the  door,  which  opened  just  as  he  reached  it,  so  that  he 
all  but  fell  over  a  boy  in  buttons  who  had  knocked  and 
entered  carrying  a  telegram  on  a  tray. 

Slyne  had  not  moved.  Captain  Dove,  almost  at  his 
throat,  spun  round  on  one  heel. 

"  For  me?  "  Mr.  Jobling  exclaimed  anxiously  as  he  ripped 
the  envelope  open.  And  a  slow  pallor  overspread  his  puffy 
pink  features  while  he  was  perusing  its  contents. 

"  From  Mullins,  my  managing  clerk,"  he  mumbled  as 
he  passed  the  message  to  Slyne,  who  looked  it  over  indif- 
ferently, and  then  re-read  it  aloud  in  a  low  but  very  omi- 
nous voice:  "  '  American  claimant  landed  at  Genoa  yester- 
day. Now  on  way  to  London.  Court  granted  decree  in  his 


168  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

favour.'  Handed  in  at  Chancery  Lane,  in  London,"  —  he 
pulled  out  his  watch  —  "  fifty  minutes  ago." 

The  page-boy  had  disappeared.  Slyne  pushed  suddenly 
past  Mr.  Jobling  and  set  his  back  against  the  door.  Captain 
Dove  was  approaching  the  terrified  solicitor  softly,  on  tip- 
toe, his  fists  clenched,  all  his  tobacco-stained  fangs  dis- 
played in  a  grin  of  fury.  One  of  his  long  arms  shot  out  just 
as  the  door  opened  behind  Slyne's  back  and  a  voice  an- 
nounced : 

"  M.  Dubois." 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  LAW  —  AND   THE   PROFITS 

SALLIE  saw  how  Jasper  Slyne's  face  blanched  at  sight 
of  that  very  untimely  intruder,  whose  keen  eyes 
seemed  to  take  in  the  situation  there  at  a  glance. 

Mr.  Jobling  had  fallen  backward  into  a  convenient  arm- 
chair and,  with  both  hands  clapped  to  his  nose,  was  moan- 
ing most  piteously.  Captain  Dove  was  standing  over  him, 
with  features  inflamed,  in  a  very  bellicose  posture  and 
glaring  at  the  new-comer,  toward  whom  Slyne  had  turned 
inquiringly. 

"  You're  —  looking  for  some  one,  M.  Dubois?  "  Slyne 
asked,  in  a  tone  of  polite  surprise,  which,  Sallie  knew,  was 
assumed. 

"  A  thousand  pardons,"  returned  that  individual.  "  I 
am  indeed  looking  for  some  one  —  whom  I  thought  to  find 
here.  I  had  no  intention,  however,  of  intruding  upon  a 
lady  -  He  bowed  profusely  to  Sallie.  "  It  may  be," 
he  suggested,  "  that  I  have  mistaken  the  number.  Is  not 
this  the  suite  161?  " 

"  One  hundred  and  sixty,"  Slyne  told  him,  and  evi- 
dently did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  add  that  the  next 
suite  was  his  own. 

"  A  thousand  pardons,"  repeated  M.  Dubois,  very  peni- 
tently. "  I  am  too  stupid!  But  mademoiselle  will  perhaps 
be  so  gracious  as  to  forgive  me  this  time." 


170  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

He  bowed  to  Sallie  again  and  to  Slyne,  and  disappeared, 
sharply  scanning  the  latter's  face  to  the  last. 

"  Who's  that  son  of  a  sea-cook?  "  snapped  Captain  Dove, 
and  Mr.  Jobling  looked  wanly  up  out  of  one  eye. 

"  A  French  detective,"  Slyne  answered  reflectively.  But 
Sallie  felt  sure  that  he  was  afraid  of  M.  Dubois,  and  won- 
dered why. 

"  Well,  he  has  nothing  against  me  that  I'm  aware  of," 

the  old  man  declared.    "  And  now  —  what  about  this  wire? 

Does  it  mean  that  some  other  fellow  has  scooped  the  pool 

—  and  that  I've  had  all  my  trouble  for  nothing,  eh?  "    He 

clenched  his  fist  again  and  shook  it  in  the  lawyer's  face. 

"  No,  no,"  gasped  Mr.  Jobling.  "  Don't  be  so  hasty. 
It  makes  no  difference  at  all,  now  that  we  have  Lady  Jos- 
celine  with  us.  I  told  you  that  the  American,  Carthew,  is 
of  no  account  against  her  —  and  how  he  has  ever  cropped 
up  again  I  can't  conceive.  In  any  case  —  " 

"  In  any  case,  you'd  better  be  off  to  your  room  and  ring 
for  a  bit  of  beefsteak  to  doctor  that  eye  with,"  Slyne  inter- 
posed in  a  tone  of  intense  annoyance. 
-  "And  I  wish  to  goodness,  Dove!  "  he  added  savagely, 
"  that  you  would  behave  a  little  more  like  a  reasonable 
human  being  and  less  — 

"  Less  of  your  lip,  now!  "  snarled  the  old  man.  "  And 
don't  keep  on  saying  that.  Just  take  it  from  me  again,  both 
of  you,  that  you'd  better  not  be  so  slow  again  in  telling 
me  —  " 

"  You  didn't  give  me  time,"  Mr.  Jobling  protested. 

Slyne  opened  the  door.  "  Come  on,"  he  urged.  "  You've 
got  to  get  your  kit  packed,  Jobling.  We'll  be  leaving  before 
very  long  now. 

"  Have  you  made  up  your  mind  to  come  with  us,  Dove?  " 


THE  LAW  — AND  THE  PROFITS  171 

Captain  Dove  nodded,  most  emphatically.  "  I'll  send 
word  to  Brasse  and  Da  Costa  at  once,"  he  remarked,  "  and 
then  I'll  be  ready  to  start  whenever  you  are." 

He  left  the  room  after  Mr.  Jobling,  and  Slyne,  in  the 
doorway,  looked  back  at  Sallie,  the  reassuring  smile  on  his 
lips  belied  by  his  cold,  calculating  eyes. 

"  And  how  about  you,  Sallie?  "  he  asked.     "  Have  you 
made  up  your  mind?    Are  you  satisfied  —  so  far?    Or  — 
would  you  rather  go  back  to  the  Olive  Branch? 

"  If  you  would  —  I'll  let  you  off  your  promise,  even  now! 
And  don't  forget  that  this  will  be  your  last  chance  to 
recall  it." 

"  You  know  I  can't  go  back  to  the  Olive  Branch,  Jasper," 
she  answered  slowly.  "  But  —  " 

He  did  not  give  her  time  to  say  more.  "  That's  settled 
for  good,  then,"  he  asserted.  "  Your  promise  stands,  and 
I  know  you'll  keep  it  when  the  time  comes  —  after  I've 
done  my  part. 

"  I'm  only  sorry  I  haven't  been  able  to  get  rid  of  Captain 
Dove  right  away,  but  it  won't  be  long  now  till  —  You 
needn't  worry  any  more  about  him.  I'll  see  that  he  be- 
haves better. 

"  If  there's  anything  else  I  can  do  for  your  comfort,  you 
must  let  me  know.  And  now,  I'll  leave  you  to  your  own 
devices  until  it's  time  to  start  on  our  travels.  Better  get 
a  rest  while  you  can,  eh?  We've  a  very  busy  week  ahead 
of  us." 

She  saw  that  he  did  not  intend  to  tell  her  any  more  in  the 
meantime,  and  was  glad  to  see  him  go.  Then  she  called 
Ambrizette  in  for  company,  and  sat  down  by  the  window 
again,  to  try  to  sort  out  for  herself  the  bewildering  tangle 
that  life  had  once  more  become  within  a  few  hours. 


172  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Gazing  out  across  the  familiar  sea  with  wistful,  far-away 
eyes,  she  mused  for  a  time  over  what  Captain  Dove  had  told 
Mr.  Jobling  of  her  history,  and  strove  to  piece  together 
with  that  all  she  herself  could  recall  of  that  dim  and  always 
more  mysterious  past  out  of  which  she  had  come  to  be 
Captain  Dove's  property,  bought  and  paid  for,  at  a  high 
price,  as  he  had  repeated  several  times. 

Her  own  earliest  vague,  disconnected,  ineffectual  memo- 
ries were  all  of  some  dark,  savage  mountain-country;  of 
endless  days  of  travel;  of  camp-fires  in  the  cold,  and  hungry 
camels  squealing  for  fodder;  of  the  fragrant  cinnamon- 
smell  of  the  steam  that  came  from  the  cooking-pots. 

Before,  or,  it  might  have  been,  after  that,  she  had  surely 
lived  on  some  seashore,  in  a  shimmering  white  village  with 
narrow,  crooked  lanes  for  streets  and  little  flat-roofed  houses 
huddled  together  among  hot  sandhills  where  the  suddra 
grew  and  lean  goats  bleated  always  for  their  kids. 

Then,  as  if  in  a  very  vexing  dream,  she  could  almost  but 
never  quite  see,  through  the  thickening  mist  of  the  years, 
once-familiar  faces  —  white  men,  with  swords,  in  ragged 
uniforms,  and  big  brown  ones  with  wicked  eyes  and  long, 
thin  guns,  glaring  down  at  her  over  a  high  wall,  through 
smoke  and  fire,  and  fighting,  and  the  acrid  reek  of  pow- 
der. .  .  . 

And  there  remembrance  grew  blank  altogether,  until  it 
connected  with  Captain  Dove,  on  the  deck  of  a  slaving- 
dhow  far  out  of  sight  of  any  land.  She  had  been  only  a  little 
child  when  he  had  carried  her  up  the  side  of  his  own  ship  in 
his  arms,  while  she  laughed  gleefully  in  his  face  and  pulled 
at  his  shaggy  moustache,  but  she  could  still  remember 
some  of  the  incidents  of  that  day. 

She  had  lived  on  board  his  successive  ships  ever  since. 


THE  LAW  — AND  THE  PROFITS  173 

And  ever  since,  until  recently,  he  had  always  been  very 
good  to  her,  in  his  own  queer,  gruff  way.  He  had  always 
treated  her  as  though  she  were  a  child  of  his  own,  shielding 
her,  in  so  far  as  he  could,  from  even  the  knowledge  of  all 
the  evil  which  he  had  done  up  and  down  the  world.  She 
had  grown  up  in  the  belief  that  his  despotic  guardianship 
was  altogether  for  her  good  and  not  to  be  disputed. 

But  now  —  she  was  no  longer  a  child.  And  all  her  old, 
unquestioning  faith  in  his  inherent  good  intentions,  toward 
her  at  least,  was  finally  shattered.  She  knew  now  that  he 
really  looked  upon  her  as  a  mere  chattel,  with  a  cash  value 
-  just  as  if  she  had  been  one  of  the  hapless  cargo  of  human 
cattle  confined  in  the  pestiferous  hold  of  the  dhow  on  whose 
deck  he  had  found  her  at  play.  She  knew  now  that  he  had 
bought  and  paid  for  them  as  well  as  her,  and  sold  them 
again  at  a  fat  profit,  far  across  the  seas  —  all  but  the  dumb, 
deformed  black  woman  whom  he  had  picked  from  among 
them  to  act  as  her  nurse. 

And  if  it  did  not  occur  to  her  to  question  either  his  power 
or  his  perfect  right  to  dispose  of  her  future  also  as  he  might 
see  fit,  had  not  all  her  experience  gone  to  prove  that  might 
is  right  everywhere,  that  law  and  justice  are  merely  addi- 
tional pretexts  devised  by  the  strong  for  oppressing  the 
weak?  She  had  had  to  choose  between  remaining  on  board 
the  Olive  Branch,  or  paying  Jasper  Slyne  his  price  for  the 
chance  of  escape  he  had  offered  her  in  pursuance  of  his  own 
aims. 

She  disliked  and  distrusted  Slyne  scarcely  less  than  be- 
fore. But  she  did  not  see  how  she  could  have  chosen  other- 
wise. And,  in  any  case,  —  it  was  too  late  now  to  revoke 
the  promise  she  had  made  him. 

She  was  still  afraid  to  place  any  faith  in  the  promises 


174  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

he  had  made  her.  She  had  no  idea  how  he  had  come  at  his 
alleged  discovery  of  her  real  identity.  But  Mr.  Jobling's 
obvious  belief  in  that  recurred  to  her  mind,  and  she  fell  to 
wondering  timidly  what  life  would  be  like  as  Lady  Jos- 
celine  Justice. 

Her  impressions  on  that  point  were  very  hazy,  however, 
and  she  had  still  to  puzzle  out  the  problem  added  by  Justin 
Carthew.  But  she  finally  gave  up  the  attempt  to  solve  that 
at  the  moment,  contenting  herself  with  the  tremulous  hope 
that  she  might  soon  be  on  her  way  toward  that  dear,  un- 
known, dream-home  for  which  her  hungry  heart  had  so 
often  ached. 

Of  the  exorbitant  price  so  soon  to  be  paid  for  the  brief 
glimpse  of  happiness  Slyne  had  agreed  to  allow  her,  she  took 
no  further  thought  at  all.  She  had  already  made  up  her 
mind  to  meet  that  without  complaint. 

An  hour  or  more  later,  when  Slyne  looked  in  to  tell  her 
that  it  was  time  to  start,  she  was  still  seated  at  the  window, 
gazing  out  over  the  steel-grey  sea  with  wistful,  far-away 
eyes. 

At  his  instigation  she  veiled  herself  very  closely.  And 
he  had  brought  with  him  a  hooded  cloak  for  Ambrizette. 
No  one  took  any  particular  notice  of  the  inconspicuous 
party  which  presently  left  the  H6tel  de  Paris  in  a  hired 
car,  as  if  for  an  excursion  along  the  coast. 

At  a  station  fifty  miles  away  they  left  the  car  and  caught 
the  night-mail  for  Paris.  Slyne's  baggage  was  on  board  it, 
in  the  care  of  a  sullen  chauffeur,  and  there  were  also  berths 
reserved  for  them  all. 

"  Did  you  see  any  more  of  Dubois?  "  Sallie  heard  Slyne 
ask  the  man,  who  shook  his  head  indifferently  in  reply. 

The  long  night-journey  passed  without  other  incident 


THE  LAW  — AND  THE  PROFITS  175 

than  a  dispute  between  Captain  Dove  and  the  sleeping- 
car  attendant,  which  raged  until  Slyne  threatened  to  have 
the  train  stopped  at  the  next  station  and  send  for  the  police. 
And  the  sun  was  shining  brightly  when  they  reached  Paris. 

Mr.  Jobling  went  straight  on  to  London,  but  Slyne  took 
Sallie  and  Captain  Dove  to  a  quiet  but  expensive  hotel, 
where  they  remained  for  a  few  days,  which  passed  in  a 
perfect  whirl  of  novelty  and  excitement  for  her.  And  when 
they  in  their  turn  crossed  the  Channel,  she  had  for  baggage 
at  least  a  dozen  new  trunks  containing  the  choicest  spoils 
of  the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  Slyne  had  pooh-poohed  all  her  timid 
protests  against  his  lavish  expenditure  on  her  account,  and 
had  also  provided  for  Captain  Dove  and  Ambrizette  in  their 
degree.  He  had  evidently  a  fortune  at  his  disposal,  and 
was  bent  on  showing  her  how  generous  he  could  be. 

He  was  also  unostentatiously  displaying  other  good  quali- 
ties which  had  all  gone  to  make  those  days  pass  very  pleas- 
antly for  her.  She  could  not  fail  to  appreciate  the  courtesy 
and  consideration  which  he  consistently  showed  her  now. 
His  patience  with  Captain  Dove,  a  trying  companion  at 
the  best  of  times  and  doubly  troublesome  idle,  more  than 
once  made  her  wonder  whether  he  could  be  the  same  Jasper 
Slyne  she  had  known  on  the  Olive .  Branch.  Prosperity 
seemed  to  have  improved  him  almost  beyond  recognition. 

He  had  a  cabin  at  her  disposal  on  the  Calais-Dover 
steamer  but  she  stayed  on  deck  throughout  the  brief  pas- 
sage, glad  to  breathe  the  salt  sea-air  again,  while  he  enter- 
tained her  with  descriptions  of  London  and  she  watched 
the  twinkling  lights  that  were  guiding  her  home. 

And  then  came  London  itself,  at  last,  somewhat  grey,  and 
cold,  and  disconsolate-looking  on  a  wet  winter  morning. 

But  after  breakfast  in  a  cosy  suite  at  the  Savoy,  a  blink 


176  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

of  sunshine  along  the  Embankment  helped  to  better  that 
first  hasty  impression.  And  then  Slyne  took  Captain  Dove 
and  her  in  a  taxicab  along  the  thronged  and  bustling  Strand 
to  Mr.  Jobling's  office  in  Chancery  Lane. 

They  got  out  in  front  of  a  dingy  building  not  very  far 
from  Cursitor  Street.  It  was  raining  again,  and  Sallie, 
looking  up  and  down  the  narrow,  turbid  thoroughfare,  felt 
glad  that  she  did  not  need  to  live  there. 

Indoors,  the  atmosphere  was  scarcely  less  depressing. 
A  dismal  passage  led  toward  a  dark  stairway,  up  which  they 
had  to  climb  flight  after  flight  to  reach  at  last  a  dusty,  ill- 
smelling,  gas-lighted  room,  inhabited  only  by  a  shabby, 
shock-headed  hobbledehoy  of  uncertain  age  and  unpre- 
possessing appearance,  perched  on  a  preposterously  high 
stool  at  a  still  higher  desk,  behind  a  cage-like  partition. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Jobling,  at  once,"  Slyne  announced 
to  him.  And  Mr.  Jobling's  "  managing  clerk  "  looked 
slowly  round,  with  a  snake-like  and  disconcerting  effect  due 
to  a  very  long  neck  and  a  very  low  collar. 

"  Show  Mr.  Slyne  in  immediately,  Mullins,"  ordered  a 
pompous  voice  from  within;  and  Mr.  Jobling  himself,  a 
blackcoated,  portly,  important  personage  there,  came 
bustling  out  from  his  private  office  to  welcome  his 
visitors. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  how  d'ye  do,  Lady  Josceline!  "  he  ex- 
claimed, and  cocked  an  arch  eyebrow  at  Sallie's  most  be- 
coming costume;  although  the  effect  he  intended  was  some- 
what impaired  by  the  fact  that  he  was  still  suffering  from  a 
black  eye,  painted  over  in  haste  —  and  by  an  incompetent 
artist. 

"  I  can  see  now  what's  been  keeping  you  in  Paris!  "  he 
added  facetiously,  and,  having  shaken  hands  with  Slyne, 


THE  LAW  — AND  THE  PROFITS  177 

who  seemed  to  think  that  superfluous,  turned  to  receive 
Captain  Dove  with  the  same  politeness. 

"  Phew!  "  whistled  Mr.  Jobling  and  drew  back  and  stared 
at  the  old  man.  "  I'd  never  have  recognised  you  in  that  rig- 
out." 

Captain  Dove  pulled  off  a  pair  of  smoked  glasses  he  had 
been  wearing,  the  better  to  look  him,  with  offensive  intent, 
in  his  injured  eye.  For  Captain  Dove  was  still  enduring 
much  mental  as  well  as  physical  discomfort  in  a  disguise 
which  he  had  only  been  induced  to  adopt  a  couple  of  days 
before,  and  after  an  embittered  quarrel  with  Slyne.  The 
stiff  white  collar  round  his  corded  neck  was  still  threaten- 
ing to  choke  him  and  then  cut  his  throat.  He  had  been 
infinitely  more  at  his  ease  in  his  scanty,  short-tailed  frock- 
coat  and  furry  top-hat  than  he  was  in  the  somewhat 
baggy  if  more  becoming  black  garb  he  had  donned  in 
its  place,  with  a  soft  wide-awake  always  flapping  about 
his  ears. 

"  Come  inside,"  Mr.  Jobling  begged  hurriedly,  and,  look- 
ing round  as  he  followed  them  into  his  sanctum,  "  Mullins!  " 
he  snapped,  "  don't  stand  there  staring.  Get  on  with  your 
work,  at  once. 

"  You're  later  than  I  expected,"  he  remarked  to  Slyne  as 
he  closed  the  door,  "  but  just  in  time.  The  Court's  closed, 
of  course,  for  the  Christmas  vacation,  but  I've  filed  an  ap- 
plication for  a  hearing  in  Chambers,  and  — 

He  paused  as  a  telephone-bell  rang  shrilly  outside,  and 
a  moment  later  the  shock  head  of  his  "  managing  clerk  " 
protruded  into  the  room,  almost  as  if  it  did  not  belong  to 
a  body  at  all. 

"  Mr.  Spettigrew  says  that  our  application  in  Chambers 
will  be  heard  by  Mr.  Justice  Gaunt,  in  576,  at  eleven-thirty 


178  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

sharp  this  forenoon,"  announced  that  youth  and,  with  a 
final  wriggle  of  his  long  neck,  withdrew. 

"  Devil  take  him!  "  exclaimed  Captain  Dove,  somewhat 
startled  and  much  incensed.  "  I  wouldn't  keep  a  crested 
cobra  like  that  about  me  for  — 

"  Let's  see  those  accounts  of  yours,  now,"  said  Slyne, 
disregarding  that  interruption,  and  Mr.  Jobling,  having 
first  looked  at  his  watch,  produced  from  another  drawer  a 
great  sheaf  of  papers,  all  carefully  docketed.  He  slipped  off 
the  top  one  and  somewhat  reluctantly  handed  that  to  his 
friend. 

Slyne  took  it  from  him  eagerly,  and  sat  for  a  time  gloat- 
ing over  it  with  eyes  which  presently  began  to  glow. 

But  when  Captain  Dove,  growing  restless,  would  have 
glanced  over  his  shoulder  to  see  what  was  tickling  his  fancy 
so,  he  frowned  and  folded  that  document  up  and  returned 
it  to  Mr.  Jobling. 

"  Give  it  here,  now!  "  growled  Captain  Dove,  menacing 
Mr.  Jobling  with  a  clenched  fist;  and  the  lawyer,  after  an 
appealing,  impotent  glance  at  Slyne,  had  no  recourse  but 
to  comply  with  that  peremptory  order. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  your  figures?  "  Slyne  asked,  with 
a  scowl.  He  seemed  conscious  that  he,  in  his  haste,  had 
made  a  false  step.  And  Mr.  Jobling  nodded  with  nervous 
assurance. 

"  I  have  inside  sources  of  information  as  to  the  revenue 
of  the  estates,"  he  replied,  "  and  a  note  of  all  the  invest- 
ments. I've  allowed  a  wide  margin  for  all  sorts  of  inciden- 
tals. I  think  you'll  find,  in  fact,  that  Lady  Josceline's  in- 
heritance will  amount  to  even  more  than  I've  estimated." 

Slyne  smiled  again,  more  contentedly.  Nor  was  his 
complaisance  overcome  even  when  Mr.  Jobling  put  to  him 


THE  LAW  — AND  THE  PROFITS  179 

a  half-whispered  petition  for  a  further  small  cash  advance 
to  account  of  expenses. 

"  I  wasn't  even  able  to  pay  Mullins'  wages  with  what 
you  gave  me  in  Paris,"  said  the  stout  solicitor  vexedly. 
"  Fees  and  so  on  swallowed  it  all  up,  and  —  I'm  actually 
short  of  cab-fares!  " 

"  Why  don't  you  fire  Mullins,  then?  "  demanded  Slyne 
with  a  shade  of  impatience.  "  I've  just  got  rid  of  my 
chauffeur  because  he  was  costing  me  more  than  he  was 
worth." 

"  But  I  can't  afford  to  get  rid  of  Mullins.  Just  at  the 
moment  he's  very  useful  to  me.  It  would  create  a  bad  im- 
pression if  I  had  to  run  my  own  errands.  And  —  the  fact 
is,  he  knows  far  too  much.  I'll  pay  him  off  and  shut  his 
mouth  by  and  by,  when  I  have  more  time  to  attend  to 
such  matters." 

"  How  much  do  you  want?  "  Slyne  inquired  with  a  frown 
evidently  meant  to  warn  his  friend  to  be  modest. 

"  Can  you  spare  twenty  pounds  —  to  go  on  with?  " 

Slyne  hesitated,  but  only  for  a  few  seconds.  Then  he 
pulled  out  a  pocket-book  and  surreptitiously  passed  that 
sum  to  the  penniless  man  of  law,  who  accepted  it  with  no 
more  than  a  nod  of  thanks. 

"  I'll  pay  Mullins  now,"  he  remarked,  and  immediately 
hurried  out  of  the  room.  Captain  Dove  was  gasping  for 
breath  and  showed  every  other  symptom  of  a  forthcoming 
explosion. 

As  soon  as  the  door  shut  behind  him,  the  old  man  gave 
open  vent  to  his  wrath.  And  a  most  furious  quarrel  fol- 
lowed between  Slyne  and  him.  Sallie,  too,  learned  then,  for 
the  first  time,  of  the  vast  inheritance  which  would  be  hers, 
of  Slyne's  cunning  plan  to  buy  Captain  Dove  out  for  a  mere 


180  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

pittance,  and  how  he  himself  expected  to  profit  through 
marrying  her. 

But  she  was  not  overwhelmed  with  surprise  by  that  be- 
lated discovery.  She  had  almost  anticipated  the  final  dis- 
closure of  some  such  latent  motive  behind  all  Slyne's  pro- 
fessions to  her.  The  only  difference  it  might  make  would  be 
to  Captain  Dove.  Slyne  and  he  were  still  snarling  at  each 
other  when  Mr.  Jobling  walked  jauntily  in  again.  But  at 
sight  of  him  Captain  Dove  began  to  subside. 

"  We  mustn't  be  late.  Mr.  Spettigrew  will  be  expecting 
us  now.  I've  sent  Mullins  on  ahead  with  my  papers,"  ob- 
served Mr.  Jobling  breezily,  and  went  on  to  explain  that 
Mr.  Justice  Gaunt,  by  nature  a  somewhat  cross-grained  old 
limb  of  the  law,  had  been  very  ill-pleased  over  being  both- 
ered again,  and  at  a  moment  when  most  of  his  colleagues 
were  enjoying  a  holiday,  about  any  such  apparently  end- 
less case  as  that  of  the  Jura  succession,  which  had  been 
cropping  up  before  him,  at  more  or  less  lengthy  intervals, 
for  quite  a  number  of  years,  and  concerning  which  he  had, 
only  a  few  days  before,  made  an  order  of  court  in  favour  of 
Justin  Carthew. 

Captain  Dove  clapped  his  soft  felt  hat  on  his  head  with 
a  very  devil-may-care  expression. 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  he  grimly,  and  Mr.  Jobling  was 
not  slow  to  lead  the  way.  So  that  they  reached  Mr.  Justice 
Gaunt's  chambers  punctually  at  the  hour  appointed,  and 
were  ushered  into  his  lordship's  presence  by  Mr.  Spetti- 
grew, the  learned  counsel  retained  by  Mr.  Jobling  on  Sal- 
lie's  behalf,  a  long,  lifeless-looking  gentleman  in  a  wig  and 
gown  and  spectacles.  And  his  lordship  smiled  very  pleas- 
antly as  Sallie  raised  her  heavy  veil  at  counsel's  crafty  re- 
quest. 


THE  LAW  — AND  THE  PROFITS  181 

"  Pray  be  seated,  my  dear  young  lady,"  his  lordship 
begged  with  fatherly,  old-fashioned  kindness,  and  indicated 
a  chair  meant  for  counsel,  much  nearer  his  own  than  the 
rest.  Nor  did  he  often  take  his  eyes  from  her  face  through- 
out the  course  of  a  long  and  convincing  dissertation  by  Mr. 
Spettigrew,  on  her  past  history,  present  position  in  life, 
and  claims  on  the  future,  with  some  reference  to  the  rival 
claims  of  Mr.  Justin  Carthew. 

"  And  I  have  full  proof  to  place  before  you,  at  once,  if 
you  wish  it,  m'lud,"  concluded  Mr.  Spettigrew  in  his  most 
professional  drone,  "  in  support  of  the  fact  that  the  lady 
before  you  is  the  lawful  daughter  of  the  late  earl  and  the 
countess,  his  second  wife,  who  died  in  the  desert.  Mr. 
Justin  Carthew,  on  the  other  hand,  is  related  to  the  family 
in  a  very  different  and  distant  degree,  and  there  are,  as  y'r 
ludship  has  been  good  enough  to  agree,  no  other  survivors. 

"  I  beg  leave  now  to  request  that  y'r  ludship  will  rescind 
the  authority  granted  to  Mr.  Justin  Carthew,  and  admit 
my  client's  petition  ad  referendum." 

"  Produce  your  proofs,"  ordered  his  lordship,  and  Mr. 
Spettigrew  extracted  from  a  capacious  black  bag  a  pile  of 
papers  at  which  Mr.  Justice  Gaunt  looked  with  no  little 
disgust. 

"  What  are  they,  in  chief?  "  asked  Mr.  Justice  Gaunt, 
turning  over  page  after  page  of  closely  written  law-script, 
as  gingerly  as  if  he  believed  that  one  might  perhaps  explode 
and  blow  him  to  pieces.  And  Mr.  Spettigrew  launched 
forth  again  into  a  long  list  of  certificates,  records,  researches, 
findings,  orders  of  court,  sworn  statements  and  affidavits, 
by  Captain  Dove  —  "  Then  trading  in  his  own  ship,  m'lud, 
now  retired  and  devoting  his  time  to  mission-work  among 
deep-sea  sailors; "  by  Mr.  Jasper  Slyne,  gentleman;  by 


182  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Mr.  Jobling,  whom  he  did  not  pause  to  describe;  by  a  couple 
of  dozen  other  people,  living  or  dead,  at  home  or  abroad;  all 
in  due  legal  form  and  not  to  be  controverted. 

"  I  think  you'll  find  them  in  perfect  order,  and  abso- 
lutely conclusive,  m'lud,"  counsel  came  to  a  finish  tri- 
umphantly, and  sat  down,  greatly  to  the  relief  of  all  present. 

"  H'm!  "  said  his  lordship,  still  gravely  regarding  Sallie: 
whose  eyes  had  nothing  to  conceal  from  him.  "  And  so 
this  is  the  long-lost  Lady  Josceline!  " 

His  searching  glance  travelled  slowly  to  Captain  Dove's 
face,  and  then  to  Slyne's;  both  of  whom  met  it  without 
winking,  although  Captain  Dove  was  no  doubt  glad  of  the 
protection  of  his  smoked  glasses. 

"  I'll  have  to  go  through  the  proofs,  of  course,"  said  his 
lordship  reflectively  and  let  his  gaze  rest  on  Sallie  again. 
"  But  —  if  everything's  as  you  say,  I  don't  think  it  will  be 
long  before  Lady  Josceline  finds  herself  in  full  enjoyment 
of  all  her  rights  and  privileges.  If  everything's  as  you  say, 
I'll  do  whatever  lies  in  my  power  to  expedite  matters;  I 
think  I  can  promise  you  that  the  case  will  be  called  imme- 
diately the  vacation  is  over.  Meanwhile,  however,  and 
till  I  have  looked  through  the  proofs,  I  can  make  no  further 
order." 

He  rose,  and  they  also  got  up  from  their  chairs  as  he  came 
round  from  behind  his  desk  and  confronted  Sallie,  a  tall, 
stooping  old  man  with  a  wrinkled  face  and  tired  but  kindly 
eyes. 

She  looked  up  into  them  frankly,  and  he  laid  a  hand  on 
her  shoulder. 

"  Yours  has  been  a  very  sad  history  so  far,  my  dear 
young  lady,"  he  said,  his  head  on  one  side,  still  studying 
her.  "  I  hope  it  will  be  all  the  brighter  henceforth.  I  knew 


THE  LAW  —  AND  THE  PROFITS  183 

-  the  last  Earl  of  Jura  —  when  we  were  both  young  men 

-  before  he  married.    You  remind  me  of  him,  as  he  was 
then,  in  many  respects.    Good  day  to  you  now;   my  time 
here  is  not  my  own,  you  know.    But  some  day,  perhaps 
you  will  allow  me  to  pay  my  respects  to  you  —  at  Justice- 
hall,  since  we're  to  be  neighbours;  my  own  home  isn't  very 
far  from  yours." 

Outside  in  the  corridor,  Mr.  Jobling  shook  hands  rap- 
turously with  every  one,  even  with  Captain  Dove. 

"  We've  turned  the  trick  already,"  he  declared.  "  You 
heard  what  his  lordship  said.  With  him  on  our  side,  the 
whole  thing's  as  good  as  settled.  All  we  have  to  do  now  is 
to  wait  until  the  Courts  take  up  again  and  confirm  —  " 

"  How  long  will  that  be?  "  Slyne  inquired.  He,  too,  was 
smiling  ecstatically. 

"  Not  much  more  than  a  fortnight,"  the  lawyer  informed 
him.  "  It  will  soon  pass.  We  must  just  be  patient." 

"  We  must  keep  very  quiet,  too,"  said  Slyne,  "  unless  we 
want  to  give  the  whole  show  away  to  the  enemy  in  advance. 
We  must  clear  off  out  of  London  till  then.  I'll  tell  you 
what,  Jobling!  Why  shouldn't  we  all  go  down  to  Scotland 
to-night?  " 

Mr.  Jobling  nodded  agreement.  "  An  excellent  idea," 
he  declared.  "  There's  nothing  to  keep  us  here." 

"  That's  settled,  then,"  Slyne  asserted.  "  And  we'll  all 
dine  together  at  the  Savoy  before  we  start.  I  think  we 
can  afford  to  celebrate  the  occasion,  eh!  And  I  want  to 
show  Lady  Josceline  a  few  of  her  future  friends." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

"  PLEASURES  AND  PALACES  " 

THE  Duchess  of  Dawn  was  dining  a  number  of  nota- 
bilities at  the  Savoy,  on  her  way  to  a  command  per- 
formance at  the  Gaiety;  a  fact  of  which  the  fashion- 
able world  was  well  aware,  because  the  young  duchess  is 
a  great  lady  in  London  as  well  as  elsewhere,  and  all  her  do- 
ings are  chronicled  in  advance.  The  fashionable  world  had 
promptly  decided  to  dine  there  too,  and  telephoned  in 
breathless  haste  for  tables.  It  filled  the  restaurant  at  an 
unusually  early  hour,  and  a  disappointed  overflow  displayed 
itself  in  the  foyer. 

The  Duchess  of  Dawn  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women 
in  England.  The  eyes  of  the  fashionable  world  were  fo- 
cussed  on  her  and  her  guests,  among  whom  were  a  minor 
European  prince  and  a  famous  field-marshal  who  had  not 
been  on  show  in  London  for  long,  until  there  appeared  from 
the  crowded  foyer,  upon  the  arm  of  an  old-young  man  of 
distinguished  appearance  and  faultless  lenue,  a  tall,  slender 
girl,  at  whom,  as  she  passed,  every  one  turned  to  gaze,  with 
undisguised  admiration  or  envy,  according  to  sex  and 
temperament. 

She  was  gowned  to  distraction,  and  by  an  artist  in 
women's  wear.  Her  beautiful  bare  arms  and  shoulders  and 
bosom  were  free  of  superfluous  ornament.  Her  pure,  proud, 
sensitive  features  were  faintly  flushed,  —  as  though,  if 


"  PLEASURES  AND  PALACES  "  185 

that  were  conceivable,  she  was  wearing  evening  dress  for 
the  first  time,  and  found  it  trying,  —  but  her  curved  crimson 
lips  were  slightly  parted  in  a  most  bewitching  smile,  and, 
from  under  their  drooping  lashes,  her  radiant  eyes  looked 
a  demure,  amused,  impersonal  defiance  at  the  frankly 
curious  faces  upturned  toward  her.  The  shaded  lights 
made  most  enchanting  lights  and  shadows  among  her  hair, 
red-gold  and  heaped  about  her  head  in  heavy  coils,  as  she 
moved  modestly  through  the  thronged  room  toward  a 
corner  where,  about  a  beautifully  decorated  table,  four 
motionless  waiters  were  standing  guard  over  four  empty 
chairs. 

She  sat  down  there,  her  back  to  the  bulk  of  the  company, 
and  her  escort  took  the  seat  opposite.  A  portly,  prosper- 
ous-looking, elderly  man,  with  something  a  little  suspicious 
about  one  of  his  eyes,  and  a  squat,  queerly-shaped  old  fel- 
low in  semi-clerical  garb  and  wearing  smoked  glasses,  com- 
pleted the  party.  Their  waiters  began  to  hover  about  them, 
and  the  fashionable  world  went  on  with  its  dinner. 

"  Who  was  that  lovely  girl?  "  the  Duchess  of  Dawn  de- 
manded of  her  vis-a-vis,  the  veteran  soldier,  and  he,  reputed 
among  women  to  have  no  heart  at  all,  recalled  himself  with 
an  evident  start  from  the  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen. 
He  almost  blushed,  indeed,  under  the  duchess's  blandly 
discerning  smile. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  duchess,"  he  returned,  smiling 
also,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  beckoned  to  a  servant  behind 
him,  whom  he  despatched  on  some  errand. 

"  She's  registered  as  Miss  Harris,  your  lordship,"  the 
man  announced  in  an  undertone  when  he  returned. 

"  Miss  Harris!  "  echoed  the  prince,  who  was  also  a  sol- 
dier. He  had  overheard.  And,  as  he  in  turn  caught  the 


186  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

duchess's  eyes,  he  lay  back  laughing,  a  little  ruefully.    But 
the  man  opposite  him,  the  master  of  armies,  was  not  amused. 
"  I'd  like  to  know  who  and  what  those  three  fellows  with 
Miss  Harris  may  be,"  said  he. 

At  their  table  in  the  corner,  they  seemed  to  be  thoroughly 
enjoying  themselves.  The  three  men  were  toasting  Sallie 
and  each  other  with  equal  good-will.  And  even  Sallie  had 
dismissed  from  her  mind  the  last  of  her  lingering  doubts 
as  to  the  reality  and  endurance  of  her  part  in  that  most 
amazing  new  life,  had  put  the  past  with  all  its  horrors 
resolutely  behind  her,  was  too  much  interested  in  the  en- 
tertaining present  to  trouble  about  the  future  at  the  mo- 
ment. 

Captain  Dove  had  seemingly  forgotten,  for  the  time  being 
at  any  rate,  his  grievance  against  Slyne,  and  was  in  his  most 
lamb-like  mood.  While  Slyne  did  not  even  demur  against 
the  quantities  of  expensive  wine  the  old  man  consumed 
during  dinner.  Mr.  Jobling,  too,  was  displaying  symptoms 
of  convivial  hilarity  when  they  at  length  left  the  restaurant. 
But  most  of  the  other  tables  were  empty  by  then. 

Mr.  Jobling  and  Captain  Dove,  arm  in  arm,  affectionately 
maintained  each  other  as  far  as  their  sitting-room,  while 
Slyne  accompanied  Sallie  to  her  own  door.  He  had  been 
making  himself  most  agreeable  to  her,  and  had  pointed  out 
a  number  of  the  notorieties  and  one  or  two  of  the  celebri- 
ties present;  although  it  had  somewhat  startled  her  to  be 
told  that  she  would  very  soon  be  on  familiar  terms  with 
them  all. 

"  Aren't  you  glad  now  that  you  agreed  to  the  bargain 
we  made  on  the  Olive  Branch  —  and  in  Monte  Carlo?  "  he 
asked  by  the  way.  He  was  smiling  gaily. 


"  PLEASURES  AND  PALACES  "  187 

She  smiled  back  at  him,  and,  "  I'm  not  sorry  —  so  far, 
Jasper,"  she  answered,  looking  deep  into  his  eyes. 

He  nodded,  as  if  quite  satisfied,  and  turned  away  to 
escape  that  embarrassing  scrutiny. 

"  We'll  be  starting  in  half  an  hour  or  so,"  he  informed 
her  from  a  safe  distance,  and,  "  I'll  be  all  ready,"  she  called 
cheerfully  after  him. 

A  little  before  eleven  he  came  in  again  and  they  all  set 
out  for  the  station  to  catch  their  train. 

It  was  a  cold,  clear,  frosty  night,  and  the  Strand  was  at 
its  busiest  as  Sallie  looked  out  at  it  from  the  taxi  into  which 
Slyne  and  Ambrizette  had  followed  her  at  the  hotel  portico. 
Another,  containing  Captain  Dove  and  their  legal  adviser, 
still  on  the  most  amicable  terms,  although  Captain  Dove 
as  a  rule  could  not  stand  anyone  afflicted  with  hiccough, 
crawled  close  behind  them  through  the  turmoil  until,  at 
the  Gaiety  corner,  a  policeman  delayed  it  to  let  the  cross- 
traffic  through. 

A  crowd  had  gathered  there  to  gaze  at  the  royalties  who 
would  presently  be  coming  out  of  the  theatre.  Slyne  drew 
Sallie  back  from  the  open  window  at  sight  of  two  men,  one 
of  whom  seemed  all  shirt-front,  looking  down  at  the  con- 
gested street  from  the  empty  steps  of  the  principal  entrance. 

"  That  ass  Ingoldsby!  "  he  explained  to  Sallie,  and  was 
evidently  a  good  deal  disturbed.  "  And  —  Dubois,  as 
well,"  he  added.  "  I  thought  I  had  shaken  him  off  in 
Paris.  I'm  sure  he  saw  me,  too." 

A  little  farther  on  he  stopped  the  taxi  and  beckoned  to 
one  of  those  street-arabs  who  make  a  living  about  the  kerb. 

"  Go  to  the  gentleman  with  the  beard,  on  the  steps  of  the 
Gaiety,"  he  instructed  that  very  alert  messenger,  "  and  say 
to  him  that  a  friend  wants  a  word  with  him  here." 


188  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Sallie  observed  the  suppressed  grimace  of  surprise  on  the 
face  of  the  individual  who  almost  at  once  arrived  in  the 
wake  of  his  ragged  Mercury:  and  Slyne,  having  tossed  the 
latter  a  shilling,  held  out  his  hand  to  M.  Dubois. 

"  Charmed  to  see  you  in  London,  man  confrere,"  said  he. 
"  Have  you  yet  discovered  your  man?  " 

"  I  am  hard  at  his  heels,"  the  detective  answered,  his 
eyes  searching  Slyne's  as  if,  Sallie  thought,  for  some  sign 
that  that  shaft  had  hit  home. 

But  Slyne's  expression  was  one  of  ingenuous  simplicity. 
He  bowed,  as  if  with  deep  respect. 

"  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  some  one  most  amazingly  like 
myself,  one  day  on  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore,  as  I  was  pass- 
ing through  Paris,"  he  mentioned  reflectively. 

"  Thanks,"  returned  Dubois.  "  It  was  he,  no  doubt. 
And  —  he's  in  London  now." 

Slyne  did  not  wince,  even  at  that. 

"  He  was  dining  at  the  Savoy  to-night,"  said  Dubois  in- 
differently. "  How  does  your  own  affair  progress?  " 

"  Assez  bien"  Slyne  answered  in  an  even  voice.  "  I 
have  followed  my  quarry  home  and  am  awaiting  develop- 
ments." 

"  You  will  be  in  London  for  a  little,  then?  " 

"  For  the  next  week  or  ten  days,  I  expect,"  Slyne  lied 
with  perfect  aplomb. 

"  We  shall  meet  again,  in  that  cats,"  declared  the  de- 
tective, glancing  at  Sallie;  and,  "  Au  plaisir  de  wus  revoir, 
monsieur"  Slyne  returned  deferentially. 

"  To  Grosvenor  Square  now  —  and  hurry  along,"  he 
directed  the  driver  in  a  voice  his  enemy  could  not  fail  to 
hear.  And  the  taxicab  swung  into  Drury  Lane,  on  its 
way  west. 


189 

For  a  few  minutes  he  sat  silent,  with  bent  head,  biting 
at  his  moustache.  Then  he  looked  round  at  Sallie. 

"  That  fellow  takes  me  for  another  man,"  he  told  her 
querulously.  "  He's  been  dogging  me  ever  since  he  first 
saw  me  at  Monte  Carlo.  You've  no  idea,  Sallie,  what  a 
dangerous  risk  I  had  to  run  there  —  for  your  sake." 

"  You  haven't  told  me  much  about  —  anything,  Jas- 
per," she  reminded  him.  And  he  proceeded  to  describe  in 
lurid  detail  the  fate  which  would  undoubtedly  have  be- 
fallen him  had  M.  Dubois  been  able  then  to  fasten  on  him 
responsibility  for  the  misdeeds  of  that  criminal  whom  he 
so  unfortunately  resembled. 

Sallie  listened  in  silence.  She  had  been  wondering 
whether  M.  Dubois  could  be  in  any  way  concerned  with  her 
affairs.  She  gathered  that  he  was  interested  only  in  Slyne. 
The  latter's  story  of  grave  risk  run  for  her  sake  fell  some- 
what flat,  since  it  seemed  to  rest  on  the  mere  possibility 
of  his  having  been  mistaken  for  somebody  else.  She  could 
scarcely  believe  that  his  fear  of  M.  Dubois  had  no  other 
foundation.  She  even  ventured  to  suggest  that  he  could 
easily  have  proved  the  detective  in  the  wrong. 

"  He  wouldn't  have  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  any- 
thing I  could  say,"  Slyne  assured  her  tartly.  "  He  wouldn't 
have  asked  any  questions  or  listened  to  any  statement  of 
mine.  You  don't  know  anything  about  the  outrages  that 
are  committed  every  day  by  fellows  like  that  on  men  like 
myself  who  have  no  fixed  residence,  Sallie;  and  no  power- 
ful friends  to  whom  to  appeal  against  such  infernal  injus- 
tice. I  can't  tell  you  how  thankful  I'll  be,  on  your  account 
as  well  as  my  own,  when  we're  married  and  safely  settled 
down,  with  a  home  of  our  own  to  feel  safe  in! 

"  Look,  there's  where  we'll  live  when  we're  in  London." 


190  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Sallie  looked  out.  They  were  whirling  past  one  of  the 
most  imposing  houses  in  Grosvenor  Square.  "Is  it  an 
hotel?  "  she  asked,  and  observed  that  all  but  one  or  two  of 
its  topmost  windows  were  dark. 

"  It's  the  Earl  of  Jura's  town  house,"  said  Slyne,  ap- 
parently somewhat  piqued  by  her  seeming  indifference. 
"  It's  yours  now  —  or  will  be  as  soon  as  the  Chancery  Court 
wakes  up  again." 

Sallie  glanced  back  and  caught  another  glimpse  of  it  as 
the  taxicab  slowed  again  to  take  the  corner  of  the  square. 
Slyne  had  picked  up  the  speaking-tube. 

"  Get  us  to  the  station  now,  as  fast  as  you  can,"  he  told 
the  driver:  and  then,  having  glanced  at  his  watch,  lighted 
a  cigarette.  He  seemed  to  have  no  more  to  say  at  the  mo- 
ment, and  Sallie  was  busy  with  thoughts  of  her  own.  She 
was  wondering  whether  Justin  Carthew  could  be  living  in 
that  great  house.  She  could  not  understand.  ...  But  she 
did  not  dare  to  ask  Jasper  Slyne  for  any  information,  since 
he  had  shown  her  more  than  once  already  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  tell  her  any  more  than  he  thought  fit. 

When  they  finally  reached  the  station  they  found  Mr. 
Jobling  awaiting  them  there  and  very  anxious  over  their 
late  arrival. 

"  We  drove  round  by  Grosvenor  Square,"  Slyne  told  the 
lawyer  nonchalantly.  "  And  —  we're  in  lots  of  time." 

Mr.  Jobling  looked  cross.  "  Five  minutes  more  would 
have  lost  you  the  train,"  he  remarked  somewhat  sourly. 
"  And  where  would  Captain  Dove  and  I  have  been  then!  " 

As  it  was,  however,  they  found  Captain  Dove  in  his  berth, 
sound  asleep,  although  still  fully  dressed.  And,  as  Slyne 
ushered  Sallie  into  the  double  compartment  reserved  for 
her  and  Ambrizette,  "  Don't  go  to  bed  just  yet,"  he  begged. 


"  PLEASURES  AND  PALACES  "  191 

"  I  want  to  show  you  something  by  and  by.  You'll  have 
lots  of  time  for  a  long  sleep  before  we  arrive." 

"  All  right,  Jasper,"  she  agreed.  "  I'll  wait  up  till  you 
come  for  me." 

When  he  at  length  knocked  at  her  door  again,  Mr.  Job- 
ling  was  still  with  her.  She  came  out  between  them  into 
the  narrow  corridor.  Slyne  rubbed  clear  one  steamy  win- 
dow to  let  her  see  the  wintry  landscape  through  which  they 
were  travelling  at  express  speed.  And  Sallie  looked  out 
delighted,  at  the  sleeping  English  countryside  as  its  broad 
grass-lands  and  bare  brown  acres,  coverts  and  coppices, 
hedgerows  and  lanes,  with  here  and  there  a  grange  or  a 
group  of  cottages,  all  still  and  silent,  flashed  into  sight  and 
so  disappeared;  until,  overlooking  them  all  from  a  knoll 
on  the  near  bank  of  a  broad,  winding  river,  there  loomed  up 
a  most  magnificent  mansion,  embedded,  in  lordly  seclusion, 
among  many  gnarled  and  age-old  oaks,  with  gardens  ter- 
race on  terrace  about  it,  tall  fountains  among  their  empty 
flower-beds,  a  moss-grown  sun-dial  at  the  edge  of  a  quiet, 
silver  lake. 

The  moon  was  shining  full  on  its  innumerable  windows, 
so  that  it  seemed  to  be  lighted  up  from  within,  although, 
in  reality,  all  were  shuttered  and  dark.  Aloof  and  very 
stately  it  stood  on  that  windless  night,  an  empty  palace 
which  came  and  went  in  a  few  moments,  wing  after  wing, 
with  its  stabling  and  courtyards,  and  still  more  gardens, 
all  within  an  endless,  ivy-clad  encircling  wall. 

"  What  place  is  that?  "  asked  Sallie  in  an  awed  tone  as 
soon  as  the  train  had  rumbled  across  the  bridge. 

"  That's  Justicehall,  Lady  Josceline,  —  your  English 
country  seat,  and  one  of  the  finest  properties  in  the  Shires," 
Mr.  Jobling  informed  her  before  Slyne  could  speak. 


192  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  You'll  be  living  there  within  a  few  weeks  —  and  forget- 
ting all  your  old  friends!  " 

Sallie  did  not  sleep  much  that  night.  Her  brain  was  far 
too  busy.  She  could  scarcely  believe  that  less  than  a  week 
had  elapsed  since  she  had  stepped  ashore  from  the  Olive 
Branch. 

Nor  could  she  yet  reconcile  herself  to  the  fact  that  her 
new  life  must  lie  amid  such  scenes  as  those  to  which  Jasper 
Slyne  had  so  far  introduced  her.  She  had  liked  Monte 
Carlo,  and  Paris,  and  London  as  any  girl  might.  The  great 
house  in  Grosvenor  Square  she  had  mistaken  for  an  hotel. 
But  the  calmly  arrogant  grandeur  of  Justicehall  had  merely 
oppressed  her.  And  the  idea  that  she  might  have  to  live 
there  did  not  please  her  at  all.  For  how  could  she,  a  crea- 
ture of  the  free  air,  of  sunshine  and  wind  and  sea  and  the 
world's  waste  places,  be  happy  immured  within  that  im- 
mense edifice,  encircled  by  servants,  hemmed  in  on  every 
side  by  unaccustomed  conventionalities,  all  as  distasteful  as 
new  to  her.  She  made  up  her  mind,  there  and  then,  that, 
if  she  might  have  any  say  on  that  subject,  Justicehall 
should  stay  empty. 

But  —  would  she  have  any  say  on  that  subject,  or  any 
other?  She  did  not  know.  Jasper  Slyne  had  so  far  told 
her  only  so  much  as  he  thought  fit  of  what  was  before  her. 
She  lay  quite  still  in  her  narrow  berth,  gazing  out  at  the 
window  whose  blind  she  had  bidden  Ambrizette  loose  from 
the  catch,  a  hundred  puzzled,  helpless  questions  thronging 
through  her  head,  till  the  moon  failed  her  and  all  was  dark- 
ness but  for  the  flashes  of  red  or  green  or  yellow  light  that 
swept  past  as  the  train  sped  through  some  wayside  station 
or  sleeping  town. 

Then  she  too  fell  asleep  at  last,  and  so  forgot  her  difikul- 


"  PLEASURES  AND  PALACES  "  193 

ties  till  she  awoke  again  in  a  new  and  most  wonderful 
world;  a  world  of  gaunt,  grey  mountains  and  wide  dark 
moors,  white  tumbling  torrents  on  hillsides,  in  deep  ravines, 
forests  of  stately  fir  and  pine  that  looked  like  the  masts  of 
ships;  a  world,  moreover,  which  seemed  in  some  sense 
familiar  and  friendly  to  her. 

Day  was  breaking  and  Ambrizette  was  already  astir. 
She  had  come  quietly  in  and  closed  the  curtains  during  the 
night,  and  was  now  once  more  looping  them  back  to  let  in 
the  first  of  the  sun.  Sallie  lay  for  a  little  longer  watching 
the  sunrise  warm  those  enchanted  solitudes  into  a  golden 
semblance  of  fairy-land. 

There  was  snow  on  the  near  mountain-tops  that  turned 
from  the  tint  of  pigeon-blood  rubies  to  pink,  from  pink  to 
amber,  and  so  to  the  purest  white.  The  train  was  travelling 
through  an  extensive  plantation  of  silver  birches,  amid 
which  a  lordly  stag,  paralysed  by  its  swift  approach,  stood 
starkly  at  bay  with  a  timid  hind  at  its  heels.  A  myriad 
rabbits  were  diving  madly  into  the  bracken  on  every  side. 
Above  in  the  blue  a  belated  wild-goose  was  winging  its 
hasty  way  to  some  warmer  clime;  for  there  was  something 
more  than  a  hint  of  hard,  black  frost  in  the  morning  air. 

Another  station  swept  past,  a  trim  little  place  with  some 
picturesque  cottages  perched  on  the  high  ground  about  it. 
A  marvellous  vista  of  water,  a  long,  winding  lake  in  the 
midst  of  the  mountains,  was  visible  for  a  few  moments, 
and  then  Ambrizette  brought  in  tea. 

Twenty  minutes  later,  Sallie  was  up  and  dressed  for  the 
day,  in  a  short-skirted  shooting-suit  of  Harris  tweed, 
heather-proof  stockings  and  smart  ankle-boots.  When 
Slyne  knocked  and  she  went  out  to  speak  to  him,  he  stood 
for  a  moment  gazing  at  her  with  unbounded  gratification, 


194  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

and  then,  "  Gad!  Sallie,"  said  he,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"  You're  her  ladyship  to  the  life  now.  You'll  certainly  look 
your  part  at  Loquhariot." 

She  smiled  back  at  him.  He  was  scarcely  less  trig  than 
herself  in  his  knickerbockers  and  Norfolk  jacket. 

"  I  hope  —  It  isn't  a  place  like  Justicehall,  is  it,  Jasper?  " 
she  asked  anxiously. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  laughed,  a  little  surprised. 

"  Why,  scarcely,"  said  he,  "  from  what  Jobling  tells  me. 
But  —  didn't  you  like  the  look  of  Justicehall?  Well,  I  hope 
you  won't  actually  despise  Loquhariot,  Sallie.  '  Be  it  never 
so  humble,'  you  know  —  " 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   MAN  IN  POSSESSION 

"  TS  that  Loquhariot!  "  asked  Sallie. 

The  weatherly  little  steamer  on  which  she  had  been 
travelling  along  that  wonderful  coast  since  leaving 
the  train  had  just  rounded  a  high,  bluff  headland  and  all  at 
once  opened  out  the  wide  waters  of  Loch  Jura,  mirror- 
like  in  the  still  afternoon  among  the  frowning  mountains 
about  them.  Mr.  Jobling  and  Slyne  were  with  her  on  the 
bridge.  Captain  Dove  strolled  up  at  that  moment,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  his  soft  felt  hat  on  the  back  of  his 
head,  a  cigar  cocked  between  his  teeth  at  an  equally  rakish 
angle.  Sallie  was  staring  straight  ahead,  with  wide,  ap- 
prehensive eyes. 

"  Is  that  Loquhariot!  "  she  asked  again,  almost  in  a  whis- 
per, as  she  gazed  helplessly  at  the  high  battlements  of  the 
ancient  stronghold  which  looks  from  its  lofty  promontory 
down  the  whole  length  of  the  loch,  unchanged  in  its  seaward 
face  since  the  date  of  its  building.  Even  Captain  Dove  was 
impressed  by  the  picture  it  made. 

"  That's  your  Castle  of  Loquhariot,  Lady  Josceline,"  Mr. 
Jobling  at  length  replied,  and  went  on  to  tell  her  its  his- 
tory, learned  from  the  guide-book  and  locally  when  he  had 
been  there  before. 

The  Castle  of  Loquhariot  dates  back  to  the  sixteenth 
century.  But  for  long  ere  that,  a  squat,  four-square  fort- 


196  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

alice  had  occupied  its  site.  Legend  has  it  that  the  grim, 
grey  keep  which  to-day  covers  the  whole  surface  of  what  was 
then  a  high  rocky  island  but  is  now  a  mere  peninsula  of  the 
mainland,  was  first  conceived  in  the  mind  of  the  then  Lord 
Jura,  a  plain  Scots  baron  of  piratical  tendencies,  who  had 
brought  back  from  the  Spanish  Main  —  whither  he  had 
sailed  in  the  company  of  another  of  the  same  kidney  as 
himself,  one  Francis  Drake  —  a  veritable  shipload  of  doub- 
loons and  pieces-of -eight;  and  that  its  ramparts  had  first 
been  armed  and  manned,  in  haste,  when  the  remains  of  the 
Great  Armada  came  drifting  southward  from  Cape  Wrath 
on  its  hapless  way  home  to  Spain,  after  that  same  Francis 
Drake  had  done  with  it. 

To-day,  at  any  rate,  may  be  seen  in  more  than  one  of  the 
embrasures  on  those  ramparts,  some  culverin  or  falconet 
salved  from  the  wreck  of  a  great  galleon  which  went  to 
pieces  on  the  Small  Isles,  at  the  mouth  of  the  loch.  And 
in  a  little  graveyard  on  the  smallest  of  the  Small  Isles  stands 
a  weather-beaten  stone  which  says  that  round  about  it  lie 
buried  the  bones  of  a  great  mort  of  Spaniards  there  interred 
by  their  sworn  enemies  in  August,  A.  D.  1588. 

It  must  undoubtedly  have  cost  at  least  a  shipload  of 
doubloons  to  build  the  castle.  But  the  then  baron  did  not 
build  it  all,  for  there  are  towers  and  wings  and  bastions 
added,  on  the  landward  side,  during  the  next  two  centuries; 
whose  cost  would  seem  to  show  that  his  piratical  lordship 
did  not  leave  his  descendants  quite  penniless.  The  circular 
North  Keep  alone  —  where  the  billiard-room  is  nowa- 
days—  must  undoubtedly  have  cost  its  imaginative  pro- 
genitor a  small  fortune. 

The  whole  edifice,  as  it  now  stands,  is  a  monument,  ap- 
parently imperishable,  to  the  greatness  and  grandeur,  past, 


THE  MAN  IN  POSSESSION  197 

present,  and  to  come,  of  the  Jura  family.  And  Sallie,  star- 
ing at  it  with  wide,  apprehensive  eyes,  from  the  bridge  of 
the  busy  little  coaster,  listening  to  Mr.  Jobling's  descrip- 
tive quotations,  with  Captain  Dove  of  the  Olive  Branch, 
and  Jasper  Slyne  for  company,  felt  infinitely  dispirited  by 
the  knowledge  that  she  and  none  other  was  the  present 
representative  of  that  proud  race. 

The  steamer  drew  in  toward  the  anchorage  and  a  ferry- 
boat put  off  from  the  shore  to  meet  it.  The  kilted  High- 
landmen  therein  looked  askance  at  Ambrizette  and  crossed 
themselves  quite  openly  as  she  was  handed  down  into  it 
from  the  gangway.  Slyne  followed  and  held  out  his  arms 
to  Sallie,  but  she  needed  no  such  assistance.  And  the  men 
in  the  boat  seemed  better  content  after  a  glance  or  two 
at  her  as  she  sat  down  and  slipped  a  warm  arm  around 
Ambrizette,  who  was  shivering  in  the  winter  afternoon. 

The  two  remaining  travellers  jumped  in,  the  baggage  was 
transhipped,  and  the  steamer  swung  about  on  her  way  to 
the  farther  north.  The  captain  sounded  his  steam-whistle 
and  waved  his  cap  in  parting  salute  as  the  ferry  made  its 
slow  way  ashore  to  the  further  accompaniment  of  a  dirge- 
like  chorus  from  the  crew  at  its  heavy  sweeps;  at  which 
music  Captain  Dove  snorted  his  disgust  very  audibly.  He 
had  awoke  with  a  headache  and  had  been  in  a  bad  temper 
all  day. 

By  the  way  Slyne  held  a  low-toned  conversation  with 
Mr.  Jobling.  And  when  the  big  boat  was  at  length  beached 
beside  a  rude  pier,  he  paid  the  ferryman  liberally,  distrib- 
uted some  small  change  among  the  oarsmen,  and  bade  them 
bring  the  baggage  along  to  the  little  inn  on  the  roadside 
at  a  short  distance. 

"  Better  send  Ambrizette  with  me,"  he  said  to  Sallie,  and 


198  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

the  black  dwarf  trotted  off  after  him  in  obedience  to  a  few 
words  from  her  mistress,  while  Mr.  Jobling  turned  the  other 
way,  toward  the  Castle. 

"  We'll  just  have  time  to  see  over  the  old  place  before 
it's  dark,  Lady  Josceline,"  the  lawyer  explained,  and  Sallie 
followed  him  with  Captain  Dove. 

Slyne  rejoined  thein  before  they  were  half-way  up  the  long 
hill  on  the  road  which  leads  from  the  shore-level  to  the 
plateau.  Sallie  was  still  staring  with  troubled  eyes  at  the 
huge,  picturesque,  rambling  pile  which  seemed  to  grow 
always  more  immense  as  they  drew  nearer  to  it.  It  dwarfed 
into  proportions  almost  infinitesimal  the  cluster  of  white 
cottages  nestling  cosily  at  the  base  of  the  great  rock  which 
formed  its  foundation.  It  seemed  to  dominate  the  whole 
visible  world,  to  challenge  even  the  mighty  mountains 
which  shut  it  in  with  the  sea. 

"  That's  the  water-gate,"  Mr.  Jobling  mentioned  and 
pointed  out  a  black,  oblong  opening  in  the  cliff-face  at  some 
height  above  even  high-water  mark  and  protected  against 
possible  intrusion  by  a  heavy  iron  grating  whose  bars  must 
have  been  as  thick  as  a  grown  man's  wrist.  "  I  suppose 
the  sea  would  be  right  up  to  its  sill  when  the  place  was 
built. 

"  There's  an  underground  passage  connecting  it  with  the 
interior  of  the  castle,  and  they'd  no  doubt  use  that  a  good 
deal  in  the  old  days. 

"  And  this  is  the  North  Keep,  as  it's  called;  newer,  you'll 
maybe  notice,  than  the  west  frontage,  although  it  looks  just 
as  ancient.  We'll  soon  have  the  Jura  house-flag  afloat  again 
from  the  Warder's  Tower,  Lady  Josceline,  and  the  beacon- 
fire  alight  after  dark.  It  always  burns  at  night,  you  know, 
when  the  head  of  the  family's  in  residence  —  a  custom  dat- 


THE  MAN  IN  POSSESSION  199 

ing  back  to  the  days  when  there  were  no  other  lights  on 
the  coast. 

"  You'll  see  the  moat  now.  Long  ago  it  was  always  full, 
even  at  low  tide.  But  now  it's  as  dry  as  —  " 

"  As  I  am!  "  grumbled  Captain  Dove,  spitting  down  into 
the  deep  fosse  which  had  formerly  cut  the  castle  off  from 
the  mainland  but  is  now  no  more  than  an  empty  ravine 
spanned  by  an  ornate  drawbridge  of  modern  date. 

They  crossed  that,  their  footsteps  producing  an  eerie, 
clank  on  the  planking,  and  came  to  a  halt  before  the  main 
entrance,  over  whose  heavy,  iron-studded  oak  doors  still 
hung,  a  mute  reminder  of  more  stormy  times,  a  massive 
portcullis  armed  with  chevaux-de-frise  of  long,  pointed 
spikes. 

Slyne  rang  the  electric  door-bell. 

It  was  some  time  before  that  summons  was  answered, 
but  no  one  of  the  waiting  group  seemed  to  have  anything 
to  say  to  the  others  during  the  interval.  The  mystery  of 
time  itself  was  in  the  atmosphere.  Some  brooding  spirit 
of  the  past  might  have  been  peering  out  at  them  from  the 
watchman's  wicket  in  the  bartizan  above.  They  stood  still 
and  silent  until,  at  last,  the  postern  in  the  big  double-door- 
way was  unlatched  from  within  and  a  grey-haired,  elderly 
woman  with  a  hard-featured  face,  much  lined  and  seamed, 
in  the  stiffly  rustling  garb  of  a  superior  servant,  appeared 
in  the  narrow  opening  and  dropped  them  an  old-fashioned 
curtsy  after  a  quick,  shrewd  glance  at  them. 

"  If  it  isn't  too  late,  we'd  like  to  be  allowed  to  look  over 
the  castle,"  Slyne  said  politely  raising  his  cap. 

The  woman  was  gazing  intently  at  Sallie.  She  started 
as  Mr.  Jobling  coughed,  with  intention,  after  they  had 
waited  a  second  or  two  for  an  answer. 


200  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  You  will  be  very  welcome,  sirs,"  she  said  hastily.  "  I 
have  authority  to  admit  visitors.  Will  you  be  pleased  to 
step  in." 

She  looked  long  and  very  closely  at  Sallie  again  as  the 
girl  crossed  the  threshold;  and  then  at  the  others  in  turn 
as  they  entered,  one  at  a  time,  by  the  narrow  postern.  She 
closed  it  behind  them,  and  led  the  way  through  a  low,  arched 
passage  into  a  dimly  lighted  but  spacious  hall. 

"  We've  just  passed  through  the  walls,"  Mr.  Jobling  in- 
formed them  patronisingly,  of  his  superior  knowledge. 
"  They're  twelve  feet  thick  on  this  front.  Loquhariot 
would  still  be  a  hard  nut  to  crack,  eh?  " 

"  I'd  sooner  crack  a  bottle  than  a  nut,"  commented  Cap- 
tain Dove  aside  to  Slyne,  who  frowned  reprovingly  at  him. 

The  great  hall  they  entered  next  could  almost  have 
housed  a  regiment.  But  it,  like  the  guard-room  through 
which  they  had  come,  was  peopled  only  in  dusky  corners 
by  fearsomely  lifelike  suits  of  armour.  Its  empty  fire- 
places made  it  seem  still  more  desolate  and  deserted. 
War-worn  flags  hung  from  the  gallery  overhead,  to  which 
a  wide  stairway  with  many  shallow  steps  gave  access. 
Dead  and  gone  Justices  and  St.  Justs  and  Juras  looked 
coldly  down,  from  out  of  dark,  tarnished  frames,  at  the 
whispering  intruders. 

"  You're  Mrs.  M'Kissock,  aren't  you?  "  Mr.  Jobling 
remarked  with  affable  condescension  as  they  followed  that 
hard-featured  personage  into  a  seemingly  endless  passage 
lined  and  hung  with  heads  and  horns  and  other  trophies 
of  the  chase  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

She  glanced  sharply  round  at  him  again  and  bowed  in 
silent  assent. 

"  I've  been  here  before,  you  know,"  he  mentioned  as  she 


THE  MAN  IN  POSSESSION  201 

ushered  the  little  party  into  the  first  of  an  extensive  suite 
of  rooms  at  the  far  end  of  the  corridor  they  had  traversed. 
Sallie  could  scarcely  repress  the  exclamation  of  pleasure  that 
rose  to  her  lips;  for  the  rooms,  all  opening  into  each  other 
and  with  the  doors  wide,  stretched  across  the  entire  breadth 
of  the  building,  so  that  their  furthest  windows  looked 
straight  out  to  sea.  There  was  nothing  between  them  and 
the  wide  Atlantic  but  a  cluster  of  miniature  islets,  emerald- 
green,  at  the  distant  mouth  of  the  loch. 

"  This  was  her  late  ladyship's  favourite  suite,"  said  Mrs. 
M'Kissock  precisely.  "  The  outermost  room  was  her  bou- 
doir once.  But  his  lordship  had  that  altered  —  afterwards." 

Sallie  listened  like  one  in  a  dream.  She  could  scarcely 
believe  that  these  had  once  been  her  own  mother's  rooms, 
that  this  gaunt,  austere  serving-woman  was  stating  matters 
of  fact  in  that  dry,  lifeless  voice  of  hers.  She  longed  to  get 
Mrs.  M'Kissock  alone  and  question  her  about  —  every- 
thing. But  she  had  been  warned  by  both  Mr.  Jobling  and 
Jasper  Slyne  that  she  must  contain  every  symptom  of  cu- 
riosity till  they  could  grant  her  permission  to  speak  for 
herself. 

She  passed,  with  a  little,  impatient  sigh,  from  one  range 
of  rooms  to  another,  each  with  its  own  tag  of  story  or  his- 
tory duly  related  by  Mrs.  M'Kissock,  until  they  reached 
the  great  hall  again  from  a  further  passage,  and  very  glad 
of  her  expert  guidance  through  such  a  maze. 

From  there  the  housekeeper  took  them,  bv  way  of  the 
central  staircase  and  gallery  up  a  steep  corkscrew  stair  in  a 
turret  to  the  top  of  what  had  been  the  main  tower  before 
the  North  Keep  had  been  built,  and  out  on  to  the  battle- 
ments, where  the  Spanish  guns  still  stand  guard,  among  a 
multitude  of  other  obsolete  pieces,  including  a  carronade  or 


202  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

two  from  the  ancient  foundry  at  Falkirk,  over  the  equally 
futile  suits  of  mail  in  the  halls  below. 

She  offered  to  show  them  the  dungeons  and  torture- 
chamber  and  oubliette,  on  the  way  to  the  water-gate,  but 
Mr.  Jobling  declared  that  it  was  too  late  by  then  to  go 
underground  that  day,  and  she  led  them  instead  along  the 
north  corridor,  through  the  late  earl's  private  study  and 
library  and  smoking-room,  through  a  dozen  other  equally 
superfluous  apartments,  till  they  regained  the  corridor  at 
the  end  where  an  open  doorway  led  through  into  the  spa- 
cious circular  hall  at  the  base  of  the  North  Keep. 

"  This  part  of  the  castle  is  private,  sir,"  Mrs.  M'Kissock 
informed  Mr.  Jobling,  who  had  already  stepped  in. 

"  I'd  like  my  friends  to  see  the  sunset  from  the  Warder's 
^ower,"  he  returned,  "  if  you  don't  mind.  We  won't  dis- 
turb anyone  on  our  way  upstairs." 

Mrs.  M'Kissock  still  looked  uncertain,  but  Slyne  had  al- 
ready followed  the  lawyer's  lead  and  Captain  Dove  was 
calmly  pushing  past  her.  She  glanced  at  Sallie  again,  and 
then  bowed  her  also  in.  And  they  all  proceeded  quietly  up 
the  carpeted  winding  staircase,  past  several  landings,  the 
doors  of  which  were  closed. 

But  the  door  at  the  turret- top  was  wide,  and  Mrs.  M'Kis- 
sock was  obviously  a  good  deal  disturbed  in  her  mind  as 
Mr.  Jobling  stepped  to  one  side  and  politely  gave  Sallie 
precedence  out  into  the  open  air. 

Sallie  smiled  careless  thanks  for  the  courtesy  and  was 
still  smiling  when  she  emerged  from  the  low  doorway  and 
stopped  just  beyond  its  threshold,  so  that  Mr.  Jobling  and 
the  others  behind  her  had  to  wait  patiently  where  they  were 
while  she  gazed,  enraptured  and  forgetful  of  all  else,  at  the 
scene  before  her. 


THE  MAN  IN  POSSESSION  203 

The  sun  was  setting,  blood-red,  over  the  far  sea-rim,  and 
there  was  no  least  cloud  in  the  radiant  sky.  The  clear-cut 
mountains  on  either  hand,  the  still  loch  and  the  broad  At- 
lantic beyond  it  were  all  aglow  with  a  marvellous,  mystic 
light;  the  little  cottages  on  the  shore,  three  hundred  sheer 
feet  below  her,  were  crimson  instead  of  white;  the  very 
smoke  which  came  from  their  chimneys  seemed  somehow 
ethereal  and  unreal. 

She  stood  alone  for  a  moment  or  two  in  a  world  trans- 
formed, till  the  quick,  keen,  exquisite  pleasure  of  it  brought 
a  mist  to  her  eyes  that  blurred  it  all,  and,  as  she  raised  a 
hand  to  brush  that  away,  she  suddenly  realized  that  she  was 
not  alone.  There  was  a  young  man  leaning  over  an  em- 
brasure at  one  corner  of  the  battlements,  who  had  been 
gazing,  like  her,  at  the  sunset  till  she  had  come  forth. 

He  was  gazing  at  her  now,  and  with  even  more  admira- 
tion, however  unconscious,  than  he  had  been  bestowing  on 
the  beauties  of  nature  inanimate;  for  the  waning  light  had 
transfigured  her  sweet,  sensitive  features  also,  and  into  a 
semblance  such  as  one  might  imagine  an  angel  would 
wear. 

Her  eyes  met  his,  and  they  two  stood  regarding  each 
other  so  for  the  space  of  five  fateful  seconds.  She  had  recog- 
nised him  at  once,  but  it  was  apparent  that  he  did  not  yet 
know  who  she  was. 

He  came  forward  then,  limping  a  little,  and  bowed,  bare- 
headed, to  her;  a  sufficiently  self-confident  youth,  straight 
and  limber,  good-looking  enough,  with  smiling  grey  eyes 
and  a  mobile  mouth,  somewhat  wistful  at  that  moment  in 
spite  of  his  eyes. 

"  I'm  sorry  if  I'm  in  the  way,"  he  said  pleasantly. 
"  Won't  you  come  out  and  look  round?  The  view  all  about 


204  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

is  beyond  any  words  of  mine  —  and  you're  only  seeing  part 
of  it  there." 

He  hesitated  slightly,  regarding  her  with  a  very  puzzled 
expression,  before  plunging  further,  and  then,  "  I'm  Justin 
Carthew,"  he  continued,  since  she  made  no  move  at  all, 
"  although  my  lawyers  would  have  me  believe  that  I'm  the 
ninth  Earl  of  Jura  now!  "  He  laughed  aloud,  as  if  that  idea 
were  amusing.  "  In  any  case,"  he  concluded  naively,  "  the 
sunset  doesn't  belong  to  me." 

She  stepped  out  into  the  afterglow,  still  without  a  word, 
her  mind  full  of  vague  misgivings.  And,  as  Mr.  Jobling 
followed  her  from  the  doorway,  with  Slyne  and  Captain 
Dove  at  his  heels,  and  Mrs.  M'Kissock,  nervously  fumbling 
with  her  chatelaine,  last  of  all,  Justin  Carthew  drew  back  a 
couple  of  paces. 

"  Your  lawyers  have  misinformed  you,  Mr.  Carthew," 
said  Mr.  Jobling  in  his  most  dogmatic  manner.  "  You  are 
no  more  the  ninth  Earl  of  Jura  than  I  am,  because  —  Let 
me  introduce  you  —  more  formally!  —  to  Lady  Josceline 
Justice,  the  late  earl's  daughter,  on  whose  property  you 
are  trespassing  here." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE    LOSER 

JUSTIN  CARTHEW  was  standing  as  if  thunderstruck 
by  these  extraordinary  statements.  His  incredulous 
glance  shifted  from  the  stout  stranger  of  the  tinted  eye 
and  the  inimical  stare  to  the  others  of  the  little  group  re- 
garding him,  until  it  met  Sallie's  again,  and  they  two  looked 
blankly  into  each  other's  eyes  while  Mr.  Jobling  proceeded 
to  introduce  himself  as  her  ladyship's  legal  adviser,  and 
stated  briefly  the  grounds  on  which  his  dogmatic  assertion 
was  based. 

To  Carthew,  the  lawyer's  voice  seemed  to  come  from 
very  far  away,  but  none  the  less  intelligibly,  as  he  himself 
stood  gazing  at  the  girl  to  whom  he  owed  his  life,  whom  he 
had  last  seen  late  at  night  among  the  shadows  on  the  deck 
of  the  Olive  Branch  in  Genoa  harbour.  At  first  sight  it  had 
seemed  so  utterly  impossible  that  it  could  be  she  who  had 
stepped  out  on  to  the  Warder's  Tower  of  Loquhariot  that 
he  had  supposed  the  sun  in  his  eyes  and  a  striking  resem- 
blance must  have  combined  to  delude  him. 

But  —  he  knew  now  that  it  was  really  she.  And  as  Mr. 
Jobling,  concluding  his  homily,  mentioned  again  who  she 
claimed  to  be,  he  was  dazedly  thankful  that  he  had  not  at 
once  contradicted  her  lawyer;  as  he  might  have  done  — 
since  he  knew  as  a  matter  of  fact  that  the  real  Lady  Jos- 
celine  Justice  was  dead. 


206  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Mr.  Jobling  had  also  repeated  that  Mr.  Carthew  was 
trespassing  there.  But  at  that  Sallie  turned  on  her  legal 
adviser  in  generous  indignation,  and  he  shrank  into  the 
background  again  as  she  spoke. 

"  If  this  is  my  property,  as  you  say  it  is,"  she  flashed, 
"  what  right  have  you  to  tell  any  visitor  that  he  is 
trespassing  here!  And  if  Mr.  Carthew  has  been  mis- 
informed — 

"  He  isn't  a  visitor,  Sallie.  He's  the  man  in  possession 
at  present,"  whispered  the  smartly-dressed  young-old  man 
who  had  been  studying  Carthew  with  a  most  supercilious 
expression,  "  and  you'd  better  leave  Mr.  Jobling  to  deal 
with  him."  He  was  obviously  not  at  all  pleased  with  her, 
and  his  whisper  was  perfectly  audible. 

The  girl  had  stopped  to  listen  to  him.  "  We're  evidently 
the  trespassers,  then,"  she  finished.  "  We  have  no  business 
here  at  all  while  he  remains  in  possession." 

The  other  man  of  the  party,  a  white-haired  old  fellow 
in  clerical  garb  and  wearing  a  pair  of  smoked  glasses,  also 
turned  angrily  toward  her.  But  at  that  moment  Mrs. 
M'Kissock  came  stumbling  forward  between  them,  with  a 
little  broken  cry,  all  her  habitual  self-restraint  vanished,  her 
harsh  features  working,  very  near  tears;  and,  lifting  a  hand 
of  the  girl's  in  both  of  her  own  to  her  lips,  fondled  it  fool- 
ishly, muttering  disconnected  phrases. 

"  I  knew  —  /  knew  it  from  the  first,"  she  mumbled,  "  and 
yet  —  I  did  not  dare  believe  my  own  eyes.    But  now  - 
God  bless  your  bonny  ladyship!    And  God  be  thanked  for 
that  you  have  at  last  come  back  to  your  own!    Loquhariot 
has  waited  very  long  for  this  late  day,  and  — 

"  Say  ye  now  there's  a  man  in  possession!  "  she  spoke  up, 
glancing  defiance  at  the  individual  in  the  Norfolk  suit  and 


THE  LOSER  207 

«* 

then,  though  with  less  of  disfavour,  at  Justin  Carthew. 
"  Say  ye  so?  —  and  to  me,  who  have  kept  the  keys  of  the 
empty  Castle  of  Loquhariot  for  her  ladyship  here,  ever 
since  the  Red  Earl  her  father  laid  that  trust  on  me  from 
his  death-bed! 

"  You  have  been  ill-informed.  There  is  no  man  in  pos- 
session here." 

Carthew  was  staring  at  her  as  if  he  were  altogether  at  his 
wits'  end.  He  almost  doubted  the  evidence  of  his  own  ears. 
Had  he  not  known  as  a  matter  of  fact  that  Lady  Josceline 
Justice  was  dead,  old  Janet  M'Kissock's  spontaneous  cham- 
pionship of  this  pretender  would  almost  have  convinced 
him  to  the  contrary.  He  could  feel  sure  of  only  one  further 
fact,  which  was  that  Sallie  herself  had  been  tricked  into  her 
impostor's  part. 

However,  he  had  no  time  just  then  to  come  to  any  further 
conclusion.  He  had  to  decide  at  once  what  he  should  do 
to  safeguard  her,  and  did  so,  recalling  only  the  debt  he 
owed  her. 

"  There  has  evidently  been  some  mistake,"  said  he,  look- 
ing levelly  into  her  troubled  eyes.  "  I  hope  you  won't  hold 
me  to  blame  for  that.  And,  believe  me,  I'm  very  glad  that 
you  have  come  to  Loquhariot." 

He  could  say  no  more  than  that  at  the  moment.  He 
bowed  to  her,  and,  turning  into  the  turret  doorway,  limped 
off  downstairs.  He  wanted  to  be  alone  for  a  little.  He 
wanted  time  to  think.  He  felt  absolutely  stunned. 

Mrs.  M'Kissock,  no  less  perturbed,  her  cap  all  awry, 
followed  him  down  the  winding  stairway  as  far  as  the  door 
of  the  rooms  he  had  only  occupied  for  a  day  or  two. 

"  I'm  going  to  remove  to  the  inn,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
her  agitated  excuses  and  explanations.  "  It  will  be  better 


208  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

so  in  the  meantime.  Will  you  tell  one  of  the  men  to  take 
my  baggage  there  for  me,  please?  " 

He  did  not  deem  it  advisable  just  then  to  ask  her  any 
question  or  make  any  comment  at  all.  And  within  another 
minute  or  two  he  had  passed  out  of  the  postern,  surrendering 
the  Castle  of  Loquhariot,  for  the  time  being,  to  one  who 
had  no  claim  or  title  to  it. 

But,  as  he  stopped  beyond  the  drawbridge  to  light  the 
pipe  he  had  mechanically  pulled  out,  he  pursed  up  his  lips 
as  though  to  whistle.  And,  "  What  proof  can  7  produce!  " 
he  exclaimed,  moving  on  again  with  the  cold  pipe  between 
his  teeth,  his  head  bent,  perplexed  to  the  last  degree. 

The  walk  through  the  darkling  woods  to  the  village  and 
the  cold,  clean  air  cleared  his  wits  a  little.  He  found  Am- 
brizette  huddled  over  the  fire  in  the  best  room  at  the  Jura 
Arms,  and,  having  bespoken  supper  and  a  bed  for  himself, 
went  on  along  the  shore  road  to  think  things  out,  if  he  could. 

Only  half  an  hour  before,  he  had  been  congratulating  him- 
self on  the  fact  that  his  troubles  were  nearing  an  end.  And 
now  — 

"  It's  been  nothing  but  trouble  ever  since  I  first  saw  that 
damned  advertisement,"  he  remarked  to  himself,  recalling 
step  after  painful  step  of  the  way  he  had  travelled  to  where 
he  was. 

A  few  months  before  he  had  seen  and  answered  an  anxious 
advertisement  in  an  American  paper  for  any  surviving  rela- 
tive, no  matter  how  distant,  of  the  Jura  family,  he  had  in- 
vested all  of  his  scarce  capital  in  a  cattle-run  in  Texas  which 
seemed  to  promise  to  pay  quick  profits.  And,  in  spite  of 
all  that  the  English  lawyers  who  had  replied  to  his  letter 
could  say  to  tempt  him,  he  had  remained  quite  firm  in  his 
wise  resolution  to  stay  there  and  reap  those  profits  before 


THE  LOSER  209 

crossing  the  Atlantic  in  pursuit  of  his  further  fortune;  until 
a  smart  junior  partner  of  theirs  had  paid  him  a  flying  visit 
at  the  ranch,  and  proved  to  him  how  foolishly  he  was  acting 
against  his  own  interests. 

For  it  seemed,  after  due  investigation  and  proof  positive 
of  his  distant  kinship  with  the  family,  that  there  could  be 
only  one  life  between  him  and  the  title  of  Earl  of  Jura,  with 
all  that  pertained  thereto  —  a  life  which  even  the  very 
conservative  English  Court  of  Chancery  was  by  then  dis- 
posed to  presume  extinct. 

The  astute  young  lawyer  had  told  Carthew  all  the  facts 
which  his  firm  had  managed  to  ferret  out  concerning  the 
late  countess's  disappearance  and  death.  It  seemed,  hu- 
manly speaking,  impossible  that  her  child  could  have  sur- 
vived her.  Justin  Carthew  had  thought  it  all  over  and  an 
accident  had  settled  the  question  for  him.  His  pony  came 
down  with  him  one  day  and  he  was  badly  trampled  by  the 
steers  he  had  been  heading.  His  doctor  sentenced  him  to  six 
months'  rest  —  out  of  the  saddle.  As  soon  as  he  was  able 
to  move  he  raised  a  mortgage  on  the  ranch  and  made  for 
London.  That  mortgage  was  almost  due  by  now,  and  his 
expected  profit  on  the  run  had  faded  into  a  stiff  loss  during 
his  absence. 

Messrs.  Bolder  &  Bolder,  the  lawyers  aforesaid,  had  made 
it  clear  to  him  from  the  first  that,  while  they  had  the  ut- 
most faith  in  the  outcome  of  their  exertions  on  his  behalf, 
they  could  not  see  their  way  to  place  their  services  and 
special  knowledge  at  his  disposal  except  on  a  spot-cash 
basis;  that,  in  short,  he  must  provide  in  advance  the  money 
to  foot  their  bill.  He  had  done  so,  and  they,  in  return,  had 
not  failed  to  implement  all  their  promises.  Even  now  he 
could  not  feel  that  they  had  dealt  unfairly  by  him. 


210  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

And  the  balance  of  his  bank  account  had  been  eaten  up 
by  his  expedition  to  Africa  in  search  of  more  authentic 
record  of  the  ex-dancer  countess's  death  and  as  to  the  fate 
of  her  child.  He  had  taken  that  somewhat  rash  step,  too, 
of  his  own  free  will  and  for  his  own  personal  satisfaction. 
He  was  personally  aware  now  that  both  the  countess  and 
her  daughter  were  dead;  but  —  he  could  bring  forward  no 
proof  at  all  of  that  fact,  and,  as  Bolder  &  Bolder  had  politely 
pointed  out  to  him,  his  personal  testimony  alone  was  that 
of  an  interested  party  and  worthless  to  them  or  anyone  else. 

He  had  suffered  sorely,  both  body  and  mind,  since  he 
and  his  party  had  been  betrayed  into  El  Parish's  hands  by 
an  Arab  guide.  And  now  — 

He  was  a  penniless  peer  of  the  United  Kingdom,  with 
every  prospect  of  being  unable  to  maintain  those  rights 
which  he  knew  were  his,  an  impecunious  citizen  of  the 
United  States,  with  a  foreclosure  threatening  him  there. 
The  result  of  all  his  own  efforts  so  far  was  failure. 

And  yet,  he  felt  that  he  ought  to  be  thankful  that  he  had 
come  through  alive.  "  A  living  dog  is  better  than  a  dead 
lion,"  he  told  himself.  "  And  —  I  owe  that  girl  my  life. 
But  for  her,  I'd  be  —  "  He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  It  was 
not  pleasant,  there  in  the  dark,  to  recall  that  hole  in  the 
sand  on  the  African  coast  which  he  had  only  escaped  by  a 
hairbreadth,  thanks  to  her. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  here  at  all,"  he  reflected.  "  And  that  fat 
lawyer  of  hers  would  see  her  settled  into  my  place  without 
any  fuss.  He  said,  in  fact,  that  the  Chancery  Court  had 
practically  admitted  her  claim  to  it  already. 

"  And  now  —  how  am  I  to  get  up  and  swear  she's  a  fraud! 
How  am  I  to  repay  all  I  owe  her  —  by  fighting  her  for  an- 
other man's  leavings!  " 


THE  LOSER  211 

He  halted,  to  fill  his  pipe,  and  found  it  full.  He  lighted 
it,  and  turned  back  toward  the  inn.  It  had  just  recurred 
to  him  that,  even  if  he  were  disposed  to  fight  her  for  his 
inheritance,  there  were  very  strong  financial  reasons  as 
well  as  merely  sentimental  ones  against  that  course.  He 
was  already  in  Bolder  &  Bolder's  debt.  He  had  had  to 
apply  to  them  by  wire  for  his  fare  to  London  from  Genoa. 
They  had  further  defrayed  the  Court  costs  of  that  order  of 
access  to  the  archives  of  Loquhariot  which  Mr.  Justice 
Gaunt  had  recently  made  in  his  favour,  and  had  furnished 
him  with  a  few  pounds  for  subsequent  expenses. 

But  they  had  taken  the  opportunity  to  mention,  always 
politely,  that  they  could  go  no  farther  than  that  beyond 
the  terms  of  their  original  bargain:  and  that  the  next  ad- 
vance of  cash  must  come  from  him  to  them. 

In  a  word,  he  could  not  afford  to  fight  either  her  or  any- 
one else  just  then.  And  he  had  a  very  strong  impression 
that  the  fat  lawyer  who  had  interposed  between  him  and 
the  girl  would  put  up  a  protracted,  expensive  battle  on  her 
behalf. 

"But  some  day  I'll  have  a  couple  of  rounds  with  him," 
Carthew  promised  himself.  "  Just  at  the  moment  —  my 
hands  are  tied.  And,  what's  more,  the  Courts  are  closed." 

He  sighed. 

"  I  can't  hurt  her,  in  any  case,"  he  declared  conclusively 
to  the  night.  "  I'm  not  much  of  a  judge  of  girls,  but  — 
she's  — 

"  I  must  just  wait  and  see,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I'm 
helpless.  And  —  I'm  hers,  anyhow,  as  I  told  her  in  Genoa. 
A  promise  is  a  promise,  no  matter  what  its  keeping  costs." 

He  looked  up  at  the  black  bulk  of  the  castle  in  the  dis- 
tance. Its  numberless  narrow  windows  were  all  aglow, 


212  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

and  in  a  cresset  on  one  tower  a  fire  was  burning 
brightly. 

"  She's  taken  possession  all  right,"  he  cogitated.  "  But 
probably  she  doesn't  even  know  that  the  beacon's  been 
kindled." 

As  he  limped  through  the  village  again,  he  could  not  but 
notice  the  unusual  stir  in  its  long  single  street.  At  every 
cottage  door  there  was  a  whispering  group  staring  up  at 
the  Warder's  Tower.  The  sound  of  oars  in  haste  reached 
his  ears  from  across  the  loch.  And  he  was  aware  of  many 
inquisitive  glances  directed  at  him  as  he  passed. 

His  simple  supper  was  awaiting  him  in  the  best  room  of 
the  little  inn.  The  black  dwarf  had  been  sent  for  from  the 
castle,  the  outwardly  stolid  and  incurious  maid-of-all-work 
informed  him.  He  sat  down  by  the  fire,  content  for  the 
moment  as  he  recalled  the  glamour  of  the  afterglow  from 
the  west  and  Sallie's  grave  glance. 

He  thought  of  nothing  else  throughout  his  meal,  and 
afterwards,  puffing  at  a  cigar  in  the  lamp-lit  porch  with  a 
plaid  about  him  to  keep  the  cold  out,  could  scarcely  bring 
himself  to  consider  his  own  precarious  situation  again. 
When  he  at  last  applied  his  mind  to  that  he  was  somewhat 
dispirited. 

He  had  only  a  few  shillings  left  in  his  purse,  and  could 
not  afford  to  stay  where  he  was  for  more  than  a  day  or  two. 
He  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  a  land  in  which,  as  he 
had  learned  already,  men  in  their  prime  had  to  compete 
keenly  for  work  which  might  bring  them  in  no  more  than 
four  or  five  dollars  a  week:  a  very  unpromising  land  in 
which  to  be  left  with  empty  pockets. 

"  Perhaps  old  Herries  will  give  me  a  week  or  two's  work 
at  something  or  other  about  the  estate,"  he  communed  with 


THE  LOSER  213 

himself.  "  But,  then,  —  that  bloated  lawyer  would  prob- 
ably interfere;  and,  while  I  lie  low,  Herries  will  be  under 
his  thumb  to  a  great  extent.  He's  under  the  weather  too, 
poor  old  chap!  " 

He  was  still  shaking  his  head  disconsolately  when  his 
cogitations  were  cut  short  by  the  sound  of  clattering  hoofs 
and  the  hurried  arrival  of  one  on  horseback,  who  galloped 
up  to  the  Jura  Arms  and  slipped  like  a  sack  from  his  saddle, 
and  swayed  and  staggered  while  his  blown  steed  looked 
inquiringly  round  at  him,  till  Justin  Carthew  slipped  an 
arm  about  him  and  would  have  led  him  indoors. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  Mr.  Herries?  "  Carthew  de- 
manded, amazed.  "  You  should  be  at  home  in  bed, 
and  —  " 

"  The  beacon?  "  gasped  the  new-comer,  a  haggard,  sick- 
looking  old  man  with  a  long  white  beard,  almost  spent,  but 
none  the  less  resolute  not  to  enter  the  inn. 

"  It  seems  that  Lady  Josceline  Justice  has  just  arrived 
at  the  castle,"  Carthew  informed  him  concisely,  after  a 
moment  of  hesitation. 

"Lady  —  Josceline  —  Justice!"  the  other  repeated 
dazedly,  but  with  evident  disbelief.  "  Did  you  say  —  Lady 
Josceline  Justice!  You're  surely  joking,  Mr.  Carthew  — 
although  it  would  be  no  joke  for  you  if  her  ladyship  had 
come  back  to  life." 

"  I'm  not  joking,"  Carthew  assured  him. 

"  But  —  how  can  it  be!  "  the  other  demanded.  "  I  can't 
conceive  —  Have  you  seen  her  yourself?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  seen  her,"  declared  Carthew.  He  could  not 
have  answered  otherwise  without  betraying  Sallie. 

"But  come  away  in.  You  must  get  between  the  blankets 
again  at  once,"  he  insisted  firmly.  "  A  five-mile  gallop  on 


214  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

a  night  like  this  is  quite  enough  to  finish  you.  And  there 
will  be  time  enough  in  the  morning  —  to  pay  her  ladyship  a 
call." 

"  I've  been  factor  of  Loquhariot  these  five  and  thirty 
years  —  and  it  would  ill  become  me  to  be  abed  at  such  a 
moment.  I'm  going  up  now,"  the  sick  man  asserted  stub- 
bornly. "  I'm  responsible  for  all  that  goes  on  here,  as  you 
know  very  well,  Mr.  Carthew  —  and  I've  had  no  news  at 
all  of  this.  I  can't  understand  —  And  yet  —  it  must  in- 
deed be  her  ladyship,  as  you  say,  since  Janet  M'Kis- 
sock  —  " 

He  caught  at  his  horse's  bridle  again  and  tried  to  clamber 
into  the  saddle. 

A  group  of  whispering  villagers  had  gathered  about  the 
inn  door,  and  they  joined  Carthew  in  his  well-meant  re- 
monstrances. But  the  anxious  steward  of  the  estate  was 
not  to  be  gainsaid  by  anyone. 

"  If  the  Lady  Josceline  Justice  has  come  back  to  her  own 
at  last,"  he  declared,  shivering,  "  it  is  my  undoubted  duty 
to  be  on  hand.  And  what  matters  else  ?  Get  the  pipes  out, 
lads,  and  gather  together.  Shall  it  be  said  of  us  that  her 
ladyship  lacked  a  true  Highland  welcome  home?  " 

Carthew,  seeing  him  so  set  in  his  purpose  and  not  know- 
ing how  to  prevent  him  except,  perhaps,  at  Sallie's  expense, 
saw  nothing  for  it  but  to  let  events  shape  themselves.  He 
brought  the  old  man  a  little  brandy,  which  served  to  steady 
him  somewhat,  so  that  he  sat  in  his  saddle  none  so  limp  at 
the  head  of  the  muster  formed  at  his  bidding.  And  Carthew 
walked  up  the  hill  by  his  side,  partly  to  help  him,  and 
partly  in  hope  of  another  glimpse  of  the  girl  who  had  surely 
bewitched  himself. 

At  his  heels  tramped  three  stalwart  pipers,  and  the  still, 


THE  LOSER  215 

star-lit  night  rang  again  to  the  shrill  strains  of  the  march 
they  struck  up;  while  close  behind,  keeping  step  to  its  lilt, 
came  a  couple  of  hundred  or  so  of  the  villagers  and  their 
visitors  from  mountain  and  glen  and  shore.  Blazing  pine- 
knots  served  for  torches  and  lighted  the  way  well,  until 
they  at  length  reached  the  landward  front  of  the  castle, 
where  the  sick  man  marshalled  them  in  a  wide,  crimson  half- 
moon  about  the  drawbridge,  while  Carthew  held  his  horse 
for  him  at  one  side. 

The  postern-door  opened  noiselessly  and  Janet  M'Kissock 
looked  out  from  within.  Herries  crossed  the  drawbridge 
toward  her,  and,  "  Eh,  Janet,  woman!  "  said  he,  "  what's 
all  this  I  hear  so  late?  They  tell  me  that  the  Lady  Josceline 
Justice  has  come  to  Loquhariot,  and  —  " 

"  It  was  because  you  were  so  ill  that  I  didn't  send  word 
at  once,  Mr.  Herries,"  the  housekeeper  put  in  defensively 
as  he  paused.  "  The  beacon  was  fired  without  her  ladyship's 
knowledge  by  one  of  her  friends.  I  don't  —  " 

"  It  is  her  ladyship,  then?  "  the  factor  demanded,  search- 
ing her  face  with  his  keen,  anxious,  fevered  eyes.  "  Whence 
came  she  so  suddenly,  Janet?  " 

"  It  is  indeed  her  ladyship,"  the  old  woman  answered 
solemnly.  "  But  —  more  than  that  I  do  not  know.  I  have 
had  all  to  see  to  since  the  sun  set,  and  —  ' 

The  other  checked  her  plaint  with  an  uplifted  hand. 

"I'll  hear  about  everything  else  by  and  by.  And 
meantime  —  I've  brought  some  of  her  own  folk  up  to  oiler 
her  welcome  —  since  it  is  she,"  he  said,  all  his  doubts  evi- 
dently dispelled  by  Janet  M'Kissock's  emphatic  assurance. 
"  Will  she  come  out  to  us  for  a  few  minutes,  think  ye?  " 

"  That  will  she,  I'm  sure,"  answered  Mrs.  M'Kissock. 
"  Her  ladyship  has  a  heart  of  gold,  as  it  were,  and  a  very 


216  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

kindly  way  with  her.  I'll  send  in  word  that  her  folk  are 
here  —  she'll  have  finished  dinner  by  now." 

She  turned  and  left  him,  closing  the  postern  behind  her 
so  that  only  the  red  torch-light  illumined  the  high  port- 
cullis and  level  drawbridge  until,  presently,  the  massive 
main-doors  of  the  castle  swung  slowly  back  on  their  well- 
oiled  hinges  and  in  the  heart  of  the  glow  from  within  ap- 
peared Sallie,  with  that  young-old  man  whom  Justin  Car- 
thew  so  disliked  at  her  side  in  very  correct  evening  clothes. 
But  he  stayed  a  little  behind  as  she  stepped  forward  and 
stopped  under  the  portcullis,  the  flare  of  the  torches  full 
on  her  face,  a  very  dazzling  vision  indeed.  For  she  also  was 
dressed  for  the  evening,  and  in  a  creation  from  Paris. 

Carthew's  heart  was  thumping  as  he  drew  farther  aside 
into  the  shadows.  She  had  not  noticed  him  in  his  plaid, 
holding  the  old  man's  horse. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  WINNER 

EVEN  during  the  bewildering  whirl  of  those  days  which 
had  passed  so  swiftly  since  she  had  escaped  from  the 
Olive  Branch,  Sallie  had  thought  very  often  of  Justin 
Carthew  and  the  strange  situation  in  which  circumstances 
had  all  conspired  to  place  them  toward  each  other. 

Since  she  had  found  out  what  her  rehabilitation,  as  Lady 
Josceline  Justice,  was  going  to  cost  him,  she  had  been  very 
anxious  to  see  him  again  and  make  everything  clear  between 
him  and  her.  But  she  could  scarcely  disclose  to  the  others 
that  she  had  met  him  before.  Neither  Captain  Dove  nor 
Jasper  Slyne  knew  anything  about  him  beyond  what  they 
had  heard  from  Mr.  Jobling.  And  Mr.  Jobling  could  or 
would  tell  her  nothing,  in  reply  to  a  timid  question  or  two 
she  had  put  to  him,  beyond  the  bare  fact  that  she  had  noth- 
ing to  fear  from  the  young  American's  ill-founded  claim  to 
her  rightful  place  in  the  world. 

She  had  been  very  anxious  to  see  him  again.  But  it  had 
startled  and  confused  her  at  first  to  find  him,  so  evidently 
at  home,  on  the  Warder's  Tower  of  Loquhariot.  For  she 
could  not  then,  before  the  others,  say  anything  at  all  of 
what  was  in  her  mind;  and  she  was  afraid  that  he  might 
unguardedly,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  reveal  their  un- 
avoidable joint  secret. 

She  could  see  that  he  had  recognised  her  at  last  and  that 


218  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

he  was  no  less  at  a  loss  than  herself.  Mr.  Jobling's  gratui- 
tous rudeness  to  him  vexed  her  very  much.  The  old  house- 
keeper's half-hysterical  outbreak  surprised  her  beyond  ex- 
pression. And  then  he  was  gone,  before  she  could  make  up 
her  mind  that  it  was  her  own  proper  part  to  have  bidden 
him  stay  till  something  could  have  been  settled. 

But  when  she  suggested  that  to  Slyne  he  pooh-poohed 
the  idea  as  absurd,  and  told  her  she  ought  to  be  very  glad  to 
have  got  rid  of  her  rival  so  easily. 

He  himself  was  in  high  glee  over  that  unexpected  out- 
come of  Mr.  Jobling's  brusquely  peremptory  method  with 
the  interloper,  and  Captain  Dove's  face  wore  a  tri- 
umphant grin.  Mr.  Jobling  himself  seemed  inclined  to  be 
sulky  with  her,  but  the  other  two  only  laughed  at  his 
petulance. 

"  We've  got  possession!  "  said  Slyne  exultantly,  "  and 
that's  nine  points  of  the  law,  as  you  ought  to  know.  If 
she  hadn't  taken  the  fellow's  part  he  might  have  been  more 
inclined  to  stand  his  ground.  But  now  —  up  drawbridge 
and  down  portcullis!  We'll  hold  the  fort  here,  till  that  old 
Chancery  Court  of  yours  comes  away  with  its  final  deci- 
sion." 

Captain  Dove  poked  the  portly  lawyer  in  the  short  ribs. 
"  Buck  up,  old  rarebit!  "  he  begged.  "  Don't  look  so  glum. 
This  is  home,  sweet  home  now.  Come  on  down  below  and 
I'll  get  you  some  sort  of  a  bracer  from  that  sour-faced  old 
Scotch  hag  with  the  keys.  My  mouth  feels  just  as  if  it  were 
made  of  blotting-paper,  too." 

"  But  you  must  go  very  slow  yet,  Dove,"  Slyne  cautioned 
the  elated  seaman  as  he  turned  toward  the  stairway. 
"  Don't  go  too  fast.  We  aren't  safely  enough  settled  yet 
to  —  " 


THE  WINNER  219 

Captain  Dove  paused  to  look  him  between  the  eyes  with 
a  mirthless,  meaning  laugh. 

"  This  is  my  adopted  daughter's  castle  now,  Mister 
Slyne,"  said  he.  "  When  we  want  any  advice  from  you 
about  how  we're  to  behave  in  it  —  or  anything  else  —  we'll 
let  you  know.  D'ye  see?  " 

Slyne's  lips  parted  and  closed  again.  He  had  evidently 
thought  better  of  giving  voice  to  any  retort,  however  ef- 
fective. 

"  After  you,"  he  remarked  politely,  since  Captain  Dove 
still  stood  blocking  the  stairway  and  grinning  fixedly  back 
at  him.  "  I  must  send  down  to  the  inn  for  Ambrizette  and 
our  baggage  at  once.  It  will  soon  be  quite  dark." 

Sallie  followed  them  slowly,  like  one  in  a  dream,  and  Mr. 
Jobling  came  last.  As  they  reached  the  circular  hall  be- 
low, Mrs.  M'Kissock,  still  much  perturbed,  came  hurrying 
in  from  the  corridor. 

"  Mr.  Carthew  has  gone,  my  lady,"  she  said,  dropping 
Sallie  another  deep  curtsey,  "  and  if  your  ladyship  will  be 
pleased  to  rest  here  for  a  little,  it  will  not  be  long  till  the 
West  Wing  is  all  in  order.  I  have  only  two  maids  to  help 
me,  with  the  castle  empty  so  long,  but  I  have  sent  down 
to  the  village  for  more,  and  maybe  your  ladyship  will  ex- 
cuse- 

Sallie  went  up  to  her  and  took  hold  of  the  two  trembling 
hands  clasped  tightly  together  against  a  jingling  silver  chate- 
laine. 

"  Janet,"  she  said  softly,  and  the  agitated  old  woman 
looked  gratefully  up  into  her  grave,  wistful  eyes,  "  I  think 
you  and  I  are  going  to  be  good  friends,  Janet,"  she  said, 
"  because  —  we  have  both  been  so  lonely.  And  I  want  you 
not  to  worry  yourself  about  anything.  There's  no  hurry, 


220  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

and  we'll  be  quite  content  here  till  you  have  everything 
arranged  as  you  wish." 

"  I  thank  you  kindly,  my  lady,"  answered  Mrs.  M'Kis- 
sock,  and  curtsied  again,  and  was  going  off  about  her  busi- 
ness, when  Slyne  signed  to  her  to  wait  a  moment  and  drew 
Sallie  toward  the  door. 

"  I'll  have  to  go  into  a  number  of  matters  with  you," 
said  he  condescendingly  to  the  old  housekeeper.  "  To  save 
Lady  Josceline  trouble,  you'll  get  all  your  instructions  from 
me." 

Mrs.  M'Kissock  looked  mutely  to  her  new  mistress  for 
refutation  or  confirmation  of  his  right  to  claim  her  services 
so;  and  Sallie  could  not  but  nod  as  she  recalled  with  a 
strange,  new  pang  the  promise  she  had  made  in  Genoa,  and 
the  lengthy  document  she  had  signed  in  the  Hotel  de  Paris. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Jasper  Slyne,  Janet,"  said  she,  "  and  — 

"  Her  ladyship's  future  —  Slyne  was  about  to  explain 
the  importance  of  his  position  there  when  Captain  Dove 
interposed. 

"  Slyne!  "  he  called  across  the  hall.  "  If  there's  nothing 
to  drink  in  the  house,  whoever  goes  down  to  the  inn  for 
our  baggage  had  better  bring  up  —  " 

But  Slyne  had  already  got  Mrs.  M'Kissock  out  into  the 
corridor. 

"  I'll  send  something  in  at  once.  Try  to  keep  him  quiet 
for  a  little,"  he  said  to  Sallie,  and  she,  having  carefully 
closed  the  door,  went  back  toward  the  fireplace  to  pacify 
the  old  man. 

A  few  minutes  later  a  pink-complexioned,  flaxen-haired 
maid  came  tripping  demurely  in,  with  a  great  silver  salver 
on  which  was  set  such  an  array  of  decanters  that  Captain 
Dove  at  once  became  most  amiable  again. 


THE  WINNER  221 

"  And  I  will  bring  tea  for  your  ladyship  now,"  said  the 
maid  in  her  quaint  Highland  accent.  "  It  was  the  other 
gentleman  that  told  me  to  bring  this  first." 

"  That  was  quite  right,"  Sallie  reassured  her,  and  asked 
her  name. 

"  It  is  Mairi,  my  lady,"  the  girl  answered  with  a  shy, 
gratified  smile,  and  was  very  soon  back  with  a  beautiful 
service  of  Sevres  and  a  steaming  urn. 

Mr.  Jobling  virtuously  declined  Captain  Dove's  cordial 
invitation  to  help  himself  to  a  decanter,  and  asked  Sallie 
for  a  cup  of  weak  tea.  At  which  the  old  man  was  still 
cackling  discordantly  when  Slyne  came  in  again  a  few 
minutes  later. 

"  That's  an  obstinate  old  baggage!  "  said  he,  obviously 
incensed.  "  You  must  tell  her,  Sal —  Lady  Josceline,  that 
she's  to  attend  to  my  orders  without  any  more  back- 
talk." 

Captain  Dove  turned  in  his  armchair  before  the  fire. 

"  That  woman's  my  adopted  daughter's  housekeeper 
now,  Mister  Slyne,"  said  he,  frowning  darkly.  "  And  I'll 
trouble  you  not  to  interfere  in  what's  no  concern  of  yours. 
You're  only  a  visitor  here,  you  know." 

Slyne  darted  a  black  glance  at  him,  but  did  not  answer 
him  otherwise.  "  I  told  her  to  get  your  mother's  rooms 
ready  for  you,"  he  mentioned  to  Sallie.  "  And  Ambrizette 
will  be  there  by  the  time  you'll  want  her. 

"  That  fellow  Carthew  has  gone  off  to  the  inn,"  he  re- 
marked to  Mr.  Jobling.  "  I  expect  he'll  be  busy  by  now 
wiring  Bolder  &  Bolder  the  news." 

"  That  won't  do  him  any  good,"  Mr.  Jobling  returned. 
"  And,  even  if  he  had  any  case  to  go  on  with,  there's  noth- 
ing more  they  could  do  for  him  until  the  Hilary  Sittings 


222  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

come  on  —  very  nearly  a  fortnight  yet.  As  it  is,  he  hasn't 
a  leg  left  to  stand  on.  You  heard  what  old  Gaunt  said  to 
her  ladyship." 

"There's  no  fear  of  anything  getting  into  the  newspapers 
prematurely,  is  there?  "  asked  Slyne. 

"  I  told  Spettigrew  to  keep  everything  quiet,"  the  lawyer 
answered  complacently.  "  And,  besides,  they're  all  full  to 
overflowing  about  the  election  that's  coming  on." 

"  I  wonder  if  anyone  ever  wades  through  all  the  lurid 
twaddle  they  print  at  such  times?  "  said  Slyne,  apparently 
pleased.  And  they  two  maintained  a  desultory  conversa- 
tion, to  which  Sallie  only  listened  when  it  now  and  then 
veered  back  to  matters  which  might  affect  Carthew  or 
herself,  until  a  sonorous  gong  began  to  sound  in  the  corri- 
dor. 

As  its  increasing  thunder  suddenly  disturbed  the  clois- 
tral quiet,  Captain  Dove,  comfortably  settled  in  his  arm- 
chair beside  the  fire  with  a  black  clay  pipe,  started  up  in 
alarm  and  spilled  the  contents  of  the  glass  in  his  hand. 

"  What  the  devil  are  they  about  out  there!  "  he  ejacu- 
lated irascibly.  "  I'll  blow  a  hole  through  that  infernal 
tom-tom  if  they  don't  drop  it." 

"  Time  to  dress  for  dinner,"  Slyne  explained  with  a  tol- 
erant smile,  and,  rising,  rang  the  bell.  "  Our  rooms  will 
be  ready  by  now,  I  expect.  But  there's  no  hurry.  All  you 
need  to  change  is  your  waistcoat." 

"  Damn  nonsense!  "  snorted  Captain  Dove,  and  reaching 
for  a  decanter,  was  liberally  refilling  his  glass  when  the  girl 
Mairi  answered  the  bell. 

"  Show  her  ladyship  to  her  own  rooms,"  Slyne  directed. 
And  Sallie  followed  the  demure,  flaxen-haired  maid  very 
eagerly. 


THE  WINNER  223 

On  her  way  to  the  West  Wing  she  could  not  but  notice 
the  change  which  had  come  over  the  place.  A  pleasant 
atmosphere  of  ordered  activity  seemed  to  pervade  the  vast 
building.  There  were  men  as  well  as  women-servants  busy 
everywhere.  Light  and  warmth  and  life  had  put  to  flight 
the  darkness  and  desolation  which  had  come  down  with  the 
dusk  on  its  emptiness.  She  gave  herself  up  for  the  moment 
to  a  delicious,  childish  sensation  of  snugness  and  safety 
there.  And  when  she  at  length  reached  the  open  door  of 
the  splendid  suite  which,  Mrs.  M'Kissock  had  told  her,  had 
once  been  her  mother's,  she  felt  that  she  could  not,  after 
all,  grudge  the  price  she  must  pay  by  and  by  for  her 
glimpse  of  home. 

Ambrizette,  with  rolling  eyes  and  open  mouth,  had  every- 
thing in  readiness  for  her  in  her  dressing-room,  for  the 
hideous  dwarf  was  indeed  a  very  efficient  femme  de  chambre. 
Within  half  an  hour  Sallie  had  had  her  bath  and  was  dressed 
again,  in  the  same  frock  that  she  had  worn  at  the  Savoy. 
She  patted  the  dumb  black  creature  on  the  head  before 
turning  away  from  the  glass,  and  paused  on  the  threshold 
to  glance  back  into  the  cosy,  fire-lit  room  with  eyes  which 
had  grown  unaccountably  dim. 

She  found  Mairi  in  the  main  hall,  demurely  flirting  with 
one  of  the  footmen  whom  Mrs.  M'Kissock  had  conjured  up, 
and  Mairi  showed  her  into  a  luxurious  drawing-room  where 
Slyne  was  standing,  hands  in  pockets,  before  a  cavernous, 
marble-faced  fireplace  in  which  a  veritable  bonfire  of  logs 
was  cheerily  crackling. 

His  eyes  lighted  up  as  she  entered.  The  mirrors  about 
the  walls  seemed  to  frame  innumerable  pictures  of  her  as 
she  crossed  the  slippery,  age-blackened  floor  toward  the  big 
bearskin  rug  which  made  an  oasis  before  the  fire.  He  held 


224  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

out  his  hands  to  her,  dumbly.  And  just  at  that  moment 
Mr.  Jobling  appeared  in  the  doorway,  trumpeting  into  his 
handkerchief. 

Captain  Dove  arrived  shortly  after  him,  under  convoy 
of  a  scared  housemaid  who,  it  seemed,  had  found  him  astray 
in  some  far  corner  of  the  castle  and  whom  he  had  impressed 
into  his  service  as  guide.  The  gongs  resounded  again,  just 
in  time  to  drown  his  added  denunciation  of  the  oak  floor, 
on  which  he  had  all  but  come  to  grief  as  soon  as  he  set  foot 
on  it.  The  folding-doors  at  one  end  of  the  long  room  were 
pulled  apart  and  a  resonant  voice  announced  ceremoniously 
that  dinner  was  served.  Slyne  offered  Sallie  an  arm  a  second 
or  two  in  advance  of  the  slower  Jobling,  and,  as  she  laid  a 
light  hand  on  his  sleeve,  led  her  into  the  banquet-hall. 

"  I  told  them  we'd  dine  here  to-night,  although  there 
are  lots  of  more  modern  rooms,"  he  mentioned  to  her,  and 
frowned  in  helpless  annoyance  as  Captain  Dove,  following, 
gave  vent  to  a  very  audible  whistle. 

A  butler  and  four  tall  footmen,  all  in  tartan  kilts  and  full- 
dress  doublets,  were  at  their  places  about  a  table  resplen- 
dent with  silver  displayed  with  old-fashioned  profusion. 
Rare  crystal  and  fine  foreign  glassware  flashed  and  sparkled 
under  the  shaded  lights  standing  on  damask  like  snow,  to 
which  hot-house  fruit  and  flowers  added  an  exquisite  note 
of  colour.  In  the  dim  background,  barely  visible  in  the 
faint  firelight,  hung  faded  tapestries  with,  here  and  there, 
some  portrait  or  pair  of  horns.  There  seemed  to  be  a  small 
gallery  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall.  The  unceiled  rafters 
overhead  were  also  almost  in  darkness. 

Sallie,  glancing  about  her  with  eager,  delighted  eyes, 
paused  on  the  way  to  the  table  to  peer  through  a  pane  of 
plate-glass  let  into  the  panelling  over  one  mantel. 


THE  WINNER  225 

"  That's  the  famous  Fairy  Horn,  Lady  Josceline,"  said 
Mr.  Jobling  officiously.  "  But  —  you  haven't  heard  the 
old  Jura  legend  yet,  I  suppose?  "  He  coughed  in  his  most 
important  manner. 

"  Well,  —  the  Fairy  Horn  is  said  to  have  been  presented 
to  one  of  your  ancestors  a  very  long  time  ago  by  the  White 
Lady  —  the  family  ghost;  every  real  old  Scots  family,  you 
know,  has  a  private  ghost  of  its  own.  And  the  horn  carried 
with  it  the  privilege,  to  him  or  any  succeeding  chief  of  the 
clan,  of  summoning  the  White  Lady,  on  three  occasions,  to 
fulfil  any  wish  so  urgent  as  to  be  worth  the  price  of  her  help. 
For,  every  time  she  does  show  up,  the  head  of  the  family 
dies.  So  that  —  the  Fairy  Horn  has  only  been  sounded 
twice,  I've  been  told,  during  the  centuries  which  have  passed 
since  then;  and  — •  on  each  occasion  the  wish  expressed  has 
been  duly  fulfilled,  at  the  price  of  the  chieftain's  life." 

Captain  Dove  turned  restlessly  in  the  chair  on  which  he 
had  scarcely  sat  down.  Sallie  knew  that  he  was  intensely 
superstitious,  as  so  many  seamen  are,  and  that  that  shad- 
owed hall  would  be  the  last  place  in  which  he  would  be 
willing  to  hear  ghost-stories. 

"  Huh!  "  said  he,  irritably.  "  I  don't  believe  a  word  of 
it,  anyhow.  What  are  we  waiting  for  now?  Gimme  some 
soup,  or  something,  you!  " 

He  was  still  scowling  over  his  shoulder  at  a  surprised 
servant  when,  in  an  instant,  there  rose  from  behind  the 
tapestry  in  a  dark  corner  a  low,  moaning  wail  which  swelled 
and  sank  and  swelled  again  to  a  bitter,  blood-curdling 
shriek.  Captain  Dove's  face  blanched  as  he  pushed  his 
chair  from  under  him  and  sprang  to  his  feet,  armed  with  the 
nearest  available  weapon,  a  table-knife.  The  servant  be- 
hind him  had  stepped  back,  in  obvious  alarm. 


226  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

A  man  came  striding  out  of  the  dusk  in  the  distant  corner, 
and,  as  he  marched  proudly  up  the  room,  the  blare  of  the 
bagpipes  over  his  shoulder  seemed  to  make  the  very  rafters 
ring.  Twice  he  encircled  the  table,  and  then  passed  out  of 
sight  by  the  farther  door. 

Captain  Dove  had  sat  down  again,  grinding  his  teeth 
audibly.  To  cover  his  confusion,  Sallie  turned  to  the  butler 
behind  her  chair,  and,  "  What  tune  was  that?  "  she  asked, 
pleasantly. 

Her  face  flushed  as  the  Highlandman  answered,  in  care- 
ful English,  "  It  will  be  none  other  than  the  Welcome  to 
Jura  that  your  ladyship's  head-piper  would  play  this  night." 

She  would  have  been  even  happier  in  her  wonderful  new 
home  if  she  had  not  thought  of  Justin  Carthew  again  at 
that  moment,  and  of  the  difference  her  coming  had  made 
to  him.  She  wished  that  she  had  been  able  to  tell  him  at 
once,  on  the  Warder's  Tower,  what  was  once  more  in  her 
mind  as  she  looked  lovingly  round  the  banquet-hall  of 
Loquhariot  —  from  which  she  had  ousted  him.  She  could 
not  forget  how  gallantly  he  had  faced  fate  at  every  turn, 
always  making  little  of  his  own  share  in  the  tragic  happen- 
ings which  had  involved  them  both. 

She  felt  that  she  could  not  rest  until  she  had  set  herself 
right  with  him,  and  made  up  her  mind  that  as  soon  as 
dinner  was  over,  she  would  ask  Mairi  or  Mrs.  M'Kissock 
to  send  a  message  down  to  the  inn  for  her. 

But  dinner,  under  such  conditions,  was  a  long  business. 
And,  although  both  Mr.  Jobling  and  Jasper  Slyne  did  their 
best  to  make  the  time  pass  pleasantly  for  her,  she  was  very 
glad  when  a  message  the  butler  brought  her  gave  her  an 
excuse  for  leaving  the  table  a  little  before  she  would  other- 
wise have  got  away. 


THE  WINNER  227 

She  had  hoped  to  escape  alone,  but  Slyne  had  overheard 
what  the  man  had  said  and  accompanied  her  to  the  hall, 
where  the  old  housekeeper  was  awaiting  her. 

"  What's  all  this,  Mrs.  M'Kissock?  "  he  asked,  somewhat 
sharply.  "  And  —  who's  Mr.  Herries?  " 

"  Mr.  Herries  is  the  factor  in  charge  of  the  estates,  sir," 
she  answered,  "  and  some  of  her  ladyship's  tenantry  have 
come  up  from  the  village  with  him  to  offer  her  welcome.  It 
was  not  my  place  to  turn  them  away  from  the  door  without 
word  from  her  ladyship's  self." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Sallie,  her  eyes  aglow  and  a  sudden  lump 
in  her  throat  to  think  that  her  own  folk  were  making  her 
welcome.  "  I  must  see  them,  Janet.  I  must  thank 
them  —  " 

Slyne  frowned,  but  made  no  further  demur  as  Mrs. 
M'Kissock  gave  orders  to  open  the  doors. 

The  glare  of  the  torches  half-blinded  Sallie  as  she  stepped 
out;  and  she  halted  beneath  the  portcullis.  But  she  saw 
an  old  man  alone  on  the  drawbridge  and  went  on  alone 
toward  him.  He  doffed  his  Highland  bonnet  to  her  and 
bowed  with  old-fashioned  deference.  Then  he  looked  her 
in  the  face  for  a  moment  or  two,  very  keenly,  while  she  re- 
turned his  searching  glance  with  happily  smiling  eyes  which 
had  nothing  to  hide  from  him.  And  all  the  time  the 
pipers  in  the  background  were  blowing  their  best. 

He  held  up  a  trembling  hand  to  them,  and  the  shrill  music 
ceased.  The  sputter  of  the  torches  was  the  only  sound  that 
broke  the  stillness  until  he  spoke. 

"  Lady  Josceline  Justice?  "  he  asked,  and,  as  Sallie 
nodded,  still  smiling,  "  I  am  Ian  Herries,"  he  told  her, 
"  factor  of  Loquhariot  and  your  ladyship's  humble  servant. 
I  had  no  news  of  your  ladyship's  coming  or  I  would  have 


228  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

been  here  in  time  to  say  welcome  home  on  behalf  of  your 
ladyship's  tenantry  and  myself." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mr.  Herries,"  said  Sallie,  in  a  shy  and 
very  tremulous  voice  whose  tone  changed  suddenly  to  one 
of  urgent  alarm.  "  But  —  you're  ill.  You  must  come  in 
and  rest. 

"  Oh,  Jasper  —  " 

The  old  man  had  almost  collapsed,  but  Slyne  hurried 
forward  in  time  to  save  him  from  falling. 

"  I'll  see  to  Mr.  Herries,"  said  he,  with  a  great  air  of 
sympathy,  and  helped  the  sick  man  indoors. 

Sallie  looked  a  little  uncertainly  after  him,  and  then 
faced  the  flickering  torches  alone  again.  The  silent  scrutiny 
of  all  the  eyes  regarding  her  was  something  of  an  ordeal, 
but  she  went  bravely  on  across  the  drawbridge. 

She  did  not  notice  the  nip  in  the  air,  but  some  one  among 
the  assemblage  had  wrapped  her  about  in  a  heavy  plaid 
and  drawn  back  before  she  could  see  who  it  was. 

"  Your  ladyship  will  find  the  Jura  tartan  as  warm  as  the 
welcome  we  all  wish  your  ladyship,"  said  a  stalwart, 
bearded  mountaineer,  who  had  stepped  to  the  front  to 
speak  for  his  fellows;  and,  as  she  smiled  shy  but  very  con- 
tentedly up  into  his  scarlet  face,  he  bent  his  head  above 
the  hand  she  had  held  out  to  him. 

One  after  another  the  hill-men  and  fisherfolk  of  the  vil- 
lage filed  past  her  then,  each  with  some  stammered  saluta- 
tion, in  difficult  English  or  guttural  Gaelic.  And  for 
each  she  had  a  shy,  grateful  smile  and  a  word  of  thanks, 
until  at  the  last  came  Justin  Carthew  and  had  also 
stooped  and  kissed  her  hand  before  she  could  prevent 
him. 

He  would  have  passed  on  like  the  others  but  that  she, 


THE  WINNER  229 

blushing  hotly,  begged  him  to  wait.  For  Janet  M'Kissock 
had  come  to  her  shoulder  to  say  that  at  the  Jura  Arms  in 
the  village  would  be  provided  a  loving-cup  in  which  all 
might  drink  her  ladyship's  health,  as  was  proper  on  such 
an  occasion,  and  had  brought  out  the  big,  silver-mounted 
hunting-quaich  in  which  every  new  Earl  of  Jura  had 
pledged  his  people  on  his  accession. 

The  butts  of  the  torches  had  been  flung  in  a  heap  on  the 
ground  before  the  girl,  and  formed  a  fiery  pyramid  between 
her  and  the  waiting  throng. 

She  lifted  up  the  drinking-horn,  her  eyes  very  bright, 
and  cried  at  the  pitch  of  her  clear,  sweet  voice  a  single, 
strangely-sounding  word  in  the  Gaelic,  that  Janet  M'Kis- 
sock had  whispered  to  her  once  or  twice.  And  the  sudden, 
thunderous  roar  of  response  that  rang  out  in  answer,  as  if 
from  a  single  throat,  awoke  wild  echoes  among  the  sur- 
rounding hills. 

"  Your  ladyship  will  come  inbye  now,"  begged  Mrs. 
M'Kissock,  as  the  pipes  struck  up  again  at  the  head  of  the 
gathering  on  its  way  back  to  the  village. 

But,  "  Just  in  a  minute,  Janet,"  said  Sallie,  "  I'm  quite 
warm.  And  —  you  needn't  wait." 

The  bonfire  before  her  was  burning  low  in  spite  of  the 
wind  which  had  just  begun  to  blow  and  promised  to  freshen. 
She  stayed  beside  it,  watching,  until  all  but  Carthew  were 
gone.  And  then  she  turned  to  him,  the  tears  very  near  her 
eyes  and  her  starved  heart  almost  satisfied. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Carthew,"  she  said  timidly,  "  I  wanted  to  tell 
you  at  once  how  sorry  I  am  about  —  everything.  I  had 
no  idea  at  all,  when  you  told  me  on  the  Olive  Branch  —  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Justin  Carthew  concisely. 

"And  Mr.  Jobling  was  so  —  abrupt;    and  —  I  didn't 


230  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

know  what  to  do.  Won't  you  please  forgive  me;  I  had  no 
idea  —  " 

"  I  was  pretty  much  taken  aback  myself,"  said  Justin 
Carthew,  and  laughed  a  little,  though  not  very  merrily. 
"  But  —  I'm  all  right  again  now.  And  you  mustn't  worry 
about  me,  please.  I'm  all  right,  again,  and  —  " 

"  You'll  wait  for  a  little?  "  she  interrupted,  she  was  so 
eager  to  reassure  him.  "  I  can't  help  being  who  I  am,  but 
—  if  you  will  only  wait  for  a  little,  everything  will  turn  out 
all  right  for  you,  too." 

She  could  see  that  he  was  puzzled. 

"  I  can't  explain,"  she  went  on  hurriedly,  afraid  that  he 
would  demand  explanation.  "  But  I  want  you  to  give 
me  a  little  time,  if  you  will.  I  want  you  not  to  go 
away.  If  you  will  just  wait  —  for  only  three  months  — 
everything  will  turn  out  all  right  for  you  in  the  end." 

"  But  —  how  —  "  he  was  beginning,  when  she  cut  him 
short  again. 

"  I  can't  explain,"  she  repeated.  "  Only  —  you  once 
promised  that  I  might  ask  you  to  do  anything  I  wanted. 
Will  you  not  just  wait  here,  and  trust  me  —  for  only  three 
months?  And  then  you'll  understand." 

He  looked  helplessly  about  him. 

"  I'll  wait  here  —  and  trust  you  —  all  the  rest  of  my 
life,"  he  said,  "  if  you  say  so.  And  then  I'll  still  be  in  your 
debt." 

"All  I  ask  is  my  three  months,"  she  told  him  gravely. 
"  And  then  —  " 

He  looked  his  utter  perplexity. 

"  You  don't  mean  that  you're  Lady  Josceline  Justice 
only  for  the  time  being?  "  he  asked,  his  forehead  wrinkled. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered  assuredly.    "  I'll  be  Lady  Jos- 


THE  WINNER  231 

celine  Justice  all  my  life.  And  —  you'll  keep  your  prom- 
ise? " 

"  I'll  keep  my  promise,"  he  affirmed.  "  I'll  wait  here 
and  trust  you  for  three  months  —  and  for  the  rest  of  my 
life,  if  you  say  so." 

She  smiled  at  him,  very  contentedly.  "  I'm  going  to 
be  very  happy  here  now,"  she  said,  and  looked  round.  She 
had  heard  Slyne's  voice,  calling  her.  She  could  see  him 
beyond  the  drawbridge  gazing  blindly  out  into  the  darkness. 

"  Good  night,"  she  said  to  Carthew.  But  she  did  not 
go  in  until  he  had  swung  himself  into  the  saddle  and  ridden 
away,  always  looking  back. 


CHAPTER  XX 

BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR 

THE  wind  that  rose  during  the  night  brought  with  it 
a  change  in  the  weather.  When  the  day  broke  and 
a  round  red  sun  rose  from  among  the  mountains,  it 
showed  the  whole  world  white  —  the  land  deep  under  snow 
and  the  sea  all  foam. 

Slyne's  first  sensation  when  he  woke  and  saw  the  storm, 
from  behind  the  double  windows  of  his  comfortable  rooms 
in  the  Warder's  Tower,  was  one  of  relief,  since  it  would 
surely  serve  to  stave  off  inconvenient  visitors.  He  had 
been  afraid  that  the  news  the  beacon  had  blazoned  the 
night  before  would  travel  altogether  too  fast  and  too  far 
to  suit  his  plans;  it  would  have  been  awkward  in  the  ex- 
treme to  be  inundated  with  curious  callers  in  a  position 
practically  carried  by  assault,  only  tenable  by  stealth  and 
while  no  one  in  active  authority  should  challenge  it. 

The  coming  of  Herries,  the  factor,  had  opened  his  eyes 
to  that.  For  the  old  fellow,  ill  as  he  was,  had  shown  a  most 
annoying  inclination  to  cross-question  Slyne  about  various 
dry  legal  details;  and  Slyne  had  only  been  able  to  put  him 
off  temporarily  by  promising  that  her  ladyship's  own  man 
of  law  would  go  into  all  such  matters  with  him  in  the 
morning. 

Now,  fortunately  for  Slyne  and  his  friends,  the  factor 
need  not  be  further  considered  for  some  little  time  to  come, 


BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR  233 

if  indeed  at  all.  The  fever  in  him  had  refused  to  yield  to 
any  of  Mrs  M'Kissock's  simple  medicaments,  and  he  was 
delirious.  He  seemed  very  likely,  indeed,  to  die  unless  he 
were  very  lucky.  Slyne  did  not  fail  to  congratulate  him- 
self on  that  score  also,  as  he  sat  up  in  bed  to  reach  for  a 
cigarette  after  his  late  breakfast  and  contemplate  the  cuffs 
of  his  expensive  pink  silk  pajamas. 

The  rest  of  the  company  in  the  castle  he  thought  he  could 
find  means  to  control,  for  the  present,  at  any  rate,  although 
he  did  not  under-estimate  the  chances  of  trouble  with  his 
two  disaffected  associates,  who  had  already  displayed 
such  a  lamentable  tendency  toward  open  mutiny.  But, 
on  the  whole,  he  felt  satisfied  that,  if  he  could  only  keep 
matters  running  smoothly  during  the  days  that  must  still 
elapse  before  the  Court  of  Chancery  should  resume  its 
usual  routine  and  finally  settle  the  Jura  succession  on 
Sallie,  he  would  by  then  have  managed  to  make  his  own 
footing  there  absolutely  secure. 

He  snuggled  back  between  the  blankets  again,  with  an 
inexpressible  sensation  of  comfort,  and,  watching  the  blue 
spirals  of  smoke  curl  upwards  from  under  his  moustache, 
forgot  all  the  anxious  uncertainties  and  the  ever  more 
painful  pinch  of  the  present  in  contemplative  anticipations 
of  that  fair  future  which  he  had  so  carefully  planned  for 
himself.  Not  even  the  fact  that  he  had  almost  exhausted 
his  cash  resources  could  worry  him  when  he  thought  of  the 
wealth  that  was  to  be  his  as  soon  as  he  should  be  safely 
married  to  Sallie;  and  until  then  he  could  command  un- 
limited local  credit,  on  her  behalf. 

She  was  Lady  Josceline  Justice  already.  She  would  be 
Countess  of  Jura  in  her  own  right  as  soon  as  the  Court  of 
Chancery  should  admit  her  identity.  She  would  have  ten 


234  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

* 

millions  of  dollars  in  ready  money  for  him  to  spend  and  a 
quarter  of  a  million  for  annual  income.  He  had  been  a 
poor  man  all  his  life,  but  now  —  he  looked  luxuriously  out 
at  the  snow  and  the  storm. 

"  Mr.  Jasper  Slyne  and  the  Countess  of  Jura,"  he  said 
aloud,  and  smiled  and  curled  his  moustache. 

He  rose  by  and  by  and  betook  himself  to  his  dressing- 
room,  whistling  a  cheery  tune.  "  And  although  I  don't 
want  to  rush  things,"  said  he  to  himself  as  he  stepped 
briskly  into  his  bath,  "  if  either  Dove  or  that  fat  suicide 
makes  any  more  fuss,  I'll  have  to  show  'em  my  teeth.  They 
must  both  keep  to  the  bargains  we  struck.  And  I  think  I've 
made  things  pretty  safe  for  myself  by  now." 

When  he  at  length  strolled  downstairs,  infinitely  refreshed 
after  his  long  rest,  he  found  Mr.  Jobling  and  Captain  Dove 
in  close  conclave  in  the  library.  And  he  did  not  like  their 
looks  in  the  least  or  their  sudden  silence  at  sight  of  him.  He 
felt  certain  that  they  had  been  conspiring  against  him,  and 
did  not  delay  in  commencing  a  counter-attack. 

"  '  Morning,  Dove.  '  Morning,  Jobling,"  said  he  casually, 
as  he  stopped  to  select  a  cigar  from  the  box  on  the  table. 
"  Change  of  weather,  eh!  You'll  have  a  cold  journey  back 
to  London,  Jobling." 

Mr.  Jobling  looked  very  coldly  across  at  him.  "  I  do 
not  propose  to  return  to  London  at  present,  Mr.  Slyne," 
he  replied.  "  Mr.  Spettigrew  will  look  after  everything 
there." 

"  You're  no  more  use  to  me  here,"  said  Slyne  bluntly, 
"  and  you  may  be  of  some  service  in  London." 

"  You  are  no  longer  a  client  of  mine,  Mr.  Slyne,"  the 
lawyer  retorted,  no  doubt  emboldened  by  the  promise  of 
Captain  Dove's  unswerving  support.  "  I  can  no  longer  act 


BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR  235 

for  you  with  any  feeling  of  confidence  —  since  I  have  found 
out  how  unfairly  you  have  attempted  to  treat  Captain 
Dove." 

Slyne  understood  that  open  war  was  declared.  "  I  won't 
be  a  client  of  yours  for  long,  if  you're  going  to  be  trouble- 
some," he  affirmed.  "  I  think  you've  got  a  little  out  of 
your  depth  again,  my  friend.  I  don't  think  you'll  find  it 
will  pay  you  to  take  that  tone." 

Mr.  Jobling  began  to  splutter,  and  Captain  Dove  evi- 
dently felt  impelled  to  come  to  his  aid. 

"  You  take  too  much  on  yourself,  Slyne,"  said  he,  eyeing 
that  gentleman  with  extreme  disfavour.  "  You  seem  to 
think  you're  the  whole  show  here,  though  you're  nothing 
but  a  hanger-on,  as  I've  told  you  before.  Let's  have  a 
good  deal  less  of  it,  or  —  We  can  get  on  just  as  well,  or 
even  better  —  without  you,  you  know." 

Slyne  turned  a  contemptuous  stare  on  him.  "  So  that's 
the  idea  now,  is  it!  "  he  remarked,  without  any  sign  of 
heat.  "  You  two  think  it's  a  case  of  dog  eat  dog  now,  do 
you!  And  —  after  you've  got  rid  of  me,  who  picked  you 
both  up  out  of  the  gutter,  you'll  be  at  each  other's  throats. 
You're  a  great  pair!  " 

His  nonchalance  incensed  the  old  man,  as  he  had  intended 
it  should. 

"  I  want  none  of  your  damned  lip,"  declared  Captain 
Dove,  glaring  at  him,  "  you  precious  upstart!  You're 
nothing  but  a  beggar  on  horseback  yourself,  for  all  your 
grand  airs.  Me  and  this  other  gentleman  are  both  sick- 
tired  of  them.  You're  one  too  many  - 

"  I'm  one  too  many  for  you  two,  at  any  rate;  and  you 
may  both  stake  your  last  cent  on  that,"  Slyne  told  him  with 
a  composure  admirable  under  the  circumstances.  "  You 


236  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

surely  don't  imagine,  do  you,  that  I'm  here  on  any  such 
unsafe  footing  as  you  are!  I  thought  you  knew  me  well 
enough,  Dove,  to  be  sure  that  I'd  leave  you  no  opportunity 
to  go  back*on  your  bargain  with  me." 

"To  hell  with  you  and  your  bargains!  "  cried  Captain 
Dove:  and  then,  restraining  his  rage,  lowered  his  voice 
again.  "  The  mistake  you've  always  made  with  me,  Slyne, 
has  been  to  take  me  for  an  old  fool  —  as  you've  very  often 
called  me  to  my  face.  You  think  I'm  in  my  dotage.  But 
—  I'm  not  too  old  to  show  you  a  trick  or  two  yet,  if  you  and 
I  come  to  grips.  And,  as  for  being  such  a  fool  as  you  seem 
to  think  me  —  you  wait  and  see !  I've  a  card  or  two  up  my 
sleeve,  Mr.  Slyne,  that'll  maybe  euchre  your  game  for  you, 
if  you  try  to  bluff  too  high!  " 

Slyne  sat  back  and  studied  the  old  man's  face.  Captain 
Dove  had  made  that  same  mysterious  threat  on  board  the 
Olive  Branch  in  Genoa,  before  they  had  started  out  on  their 
present  adventure.  It  had  disconcerted  Slyne  then.  It 
disconcerted  him  still  more  now. 

',"  Don't  you  think  that  you're  a  little  inclined  to  overrate 
your  importance  and  —  er  —  capacity,  Mr.  Slyne?  "  put  in 
Mr.  Jobling  acidly  during  the  pause,  involuntary  on  Slyne's 
part.  "  All  your  ideas  are  no  doubt  based  on  the  documents 
we  mutually  signed  in  Monte  Carlo ;  and  you  are  probably 
not  aware,  as  I  am  —  now  that  I  have  a  clearer  insight  into 
your  motives  —  that  they  amount  to  neither  more  nor  less 
than  a  conspiracy  to  defraud.  You  would  be  well  advised, 
believe  me,  to  put  them  all  in  the  fire." 

Slyne  turned  on  him  in  an  instant.  "  Now,  see  here,  my 
friend!  I  want  you  to  understand,  once  and  for  all,  that 
I've  got  you  safe  where  I  want  you,  and  that,  if  I  hear 
much  more  from  you,  you'll  find  yourself  in  a  very  unpleas- 


BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR  237 

ant  fix.  You  wouldn't  look  well  at  all  in  a  striped  suit  — 
or  I  believe  it's  the  broad-arrow  pattern  they  supply  in  the 
prisons  here.  And  that's  what  you'll  come  to,  believe  me, 
unless  you  walk  the  line  I've  laid  down  for  you.  You  can't 
embezzle  trust  funds,  you  know,  and  pay  the  interest  with 
promises  to  be  met  as  soon  as  you  lay  your  hands  on  some 
of  the  plunder  here,  without  running  a  very  dangerous  risk 
indeed.  Why,  even  the  car  you  sold  me  in  Genoa  was  an- 
other man's  property  —  and  I  hold  your  receipt  for  the 
price  I  paid  you  for  it. 

"  So  shut  up,"  he  concluded  sharply,  and  proceeded  to 
deal  with  Captain  Dove  as  if  the  lawyer  had  not  been  there. 

M.r.  Jobling's  flaccid  face  had  become  of  the  colour  of 
mottled  clay.  He  was  respiring  stertorously,  through  his 
mouth.  His  eyes  had  grown  blood-shot.  His  back-bone 
seemed  to  have  given  way.  He  sat  huddled  up,  silent, 
staring  at  Slyne  with  eyes  full  of  impotent  fear. 

"  You  talk  to  me  about  blumng!  "  Slyne  was  saying  to 
Captain  Dove,  who  also  seemed  to  have  grown  suddenly 
apprehensive  of  some  unforeseen  mischance.  "  You  talk 
to  me  about  blumng,  although  I've  played  a  straight  game 
with  you  from  the  start  and  stuck  to  our  bargain  even 
against  my  own  interests.  Wait  a  minute.  Listen  to  me  — 
and  then  you  can  talk  till  you're  tired. 

"  Do  you  want  to  keep  your  clever  new  friend  there 
company  in  his  cell?  How  long  do  you  think  you'd  be  left 
at  liberty  if  I  mentioned  to  the  authorities  that  you're  the 
same  man  who  —  " 

"  Stop,  now,  curse  you!  "  roared  Captain  Dove  and  so 
drowned  the  disclosures  which  Slyne  seemed  minded  to 
make.  "  And  don't  go  too  far  with  me,  or  —  " 

Slyne  looked  without  winking  into  the  muzzle  of  the  re- 


238  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

volver  which  the  old  man  had  produced  in  an  instant  and 
levelled  at  him.  "  You  talk  to  me  about  bluffing!  "  he 
said  again,  and  laughed,  without  mirth.  "  You'd  be  better 
occupied,  Dove,  in  making  sure  that  your  own  bluff  isn't 
called.  You've  done  your  best  for  a  week  past  to  give 
yourself  away  to  the  police,  and  —  if  you  manage  that  in 
the  end,  you  won't  have  me  to  blame,  remember.  Pm  not 
the  sort  of  yellow  dog  you  seem  to  want  to  make  yourself 
out." 

He  paused,  to  let  that  vitriolic  criticism  sink  in,  and  to 
consider  just  how  far  he  might  safely  go.  Captain  Dove 
had  laid  his  revolver  down  but  kept  a  hand  on  its  butt. 
He  was  watching  Slyne  intently. 

"  I  wish  you  could  get  it  into  your  head,"  the  latter  re- 
sumed a  little  more  peaceably,  "  that  beggar-my-neighbour 
isn't  the  easiest  game  to  play  with  me.  And  that  I've  got 
brains  enough  to  take  care  of  myself. 

"  If  you  and  your  cute  new  friend  there  were  to  be  put 
away  to-morrow,  I'd  stay  here  safe  and  sound.  I've  noth- 
ing to  fear. 

"  I've  kept  my  bargain  with  you  both  so  far,  and  I'm  quite 
willing  to  complete  it.  I'm  going  to  see,  at  the  same  time, 
that  you  keep  yours  with  me.  You'll  each  get  your  prom- 
ised share  of  the  profits  here,  no  more  and  no  less;  and 
then  —  I'll  be  done  with  you.  Till  then  —  don't  go  too 
far  with  me,"  he  finished  warningly. 

"  To  hear  you  talk,  any  one  would  think  you  owned 
Loquhariot  already!  "  remarked  Captain  Dove.  "  I'd  like 
to  hear  what  Sallie  has  to  say  about  it  all  now." 

"  I'll  get  her  to  tell  you  at  once,  if  you  like,"  Slyne  an- 
swered evenly  and,  rising,  rang  the  bell. 

"  Ask  her  ladyship  to  favour  us  with  her  company  for  a 


BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR  239 

few  minutes,"  he  instructed  the  footman  who  answered 
that  summons,  "  or  if  she'd  prefer  to  receive  us  in  her  own 
room."  Then  he  lay  back  in  his  chair  again,  his  wits  busily 
at  work.  He  could  not  feel  quite  sure  himself  what  Sallie 
would  have  to  say  about  it  all  now;  but  —  he  meant  to 
master  her  also. 

The  servant,  however,  came  back  with  word  that  her 
ladyship  had  gone  out.  And  at  that  Slyne  scowled.  It  was 
at  a  most  inopportune  moment  for  him  that  Sallie  had  taken 
a  liberty  of  which  she  would  not  have  dreamed  a  few  days 
before;  and,  furthermore,  it  did  not  fit  in  with  his  plans 
at  all  to  have  her  making  such  use  of  her  new-found  freedom; 
there  was  no  telling  whom  she  might  meet  —  there  was  that 
fellow  Carthew,  for  instance! 

"  Which  way  did  her  ladyship  go,  do  you  know?  "  he 
called  after  the  footman,  as  casually  as  he  could. 

"  To  the  village,  I  think,  sir,"  the  man  replied,  and  he 
rose,  yawning,  to  look  discontentedly  out  at  the  wintry 
landscape.  It  was  very  beautiful  in  the  brisk  morning 
sunshine,  but  also  very  wet  underfoot. 

"  I'll  stroll  down  the  road  after  her,"  he  announced, 
"  and  fetch  her  back.  You  can  be  packing  up  in  the  mean- 
time, Jobling.  The  steamer  south  sails  early  in  the  after- 
noon." 

He  did  not  hesitate  to  leave  the  two  conspirators  alone 
together  again;  he  judged  that  he  had  succeeded  in  cowing 
them  both.  He  even  smiled  to  himself  on  his  way  out- 
doors. 

"  I  thought  I  was  done  for  when  I  met  Dubois,"  he  re- 
flected, perfectly  self-satisfied,  "  but  —  I  was  really  in  luck. 
And  that  was  a  most  opportune  chat  I  had  with  Mullins 
in  London,  too.  I've  got  Jobling  fairly  fixed.  If  I  can't 


240  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

manage  the  old  man  —  I'm  a  bigger  fool  than  I  take  myself 
for.  And  I've  made  things  all  right  for  myself  with  Sallie, 
or  I'm  mistaken." 

He  paused  in  the  main  hall  to  look  appreciatively  about 
him  while  a  servant  was  fetching  his  coat  and  cap  from  the 
cloak-room.  The  sun  was  streaming  in  through  the  stained 
glass  of  a  lofty,  mullioned  window,  the  heart  of  each  of 
whose  panels  showed  in  vivid  scarlet  against  the  light  a 
clenched  hand  holding  a  dagger,  the  Jura  crest. 

"  They  won  it  all  that  way,"  said  Slyne  to  himself,  and 
drew  a  deep  breath  of  contentment  as  he  looked  round  the 
noble  hall  again.  He  felt  very  proud  of  the  place  already, 
and  only  wished  that  some  of  his  former  friends  could  have 
seen  him  there. 

Outside,  beyond  the  drawbridge,  he  halted  to  look  ad- 
miringly up  at  the  massive,  ivy-clad  frontage  of  the  Main 
Keep,  with  its  crenellated  ramparts  and  narrow  fighting- 
windows  and  bartizan.  Then  he  turned  with  a  high  heart 
toward  the  road  that  runs  between  hazel  thickets  and 
clumps  of  alder  or  silver  birch  down  the  long  hill  to  the 
village  and  the  seashore.  He  was  humming  a  contented 
tune  to  himself  as  he  tramped  through  the  melting  snow. 

He  had  not  far  to  seek  Sallie.  Within  the  open  doorway 
of  the  first  cottage  he  came  to,  he  caught  sight  of  her  beside 
the  peat-fire  with  a  laughing  child  on  her  lap  and  its  proud 
mother  smiling  beside  her. 

He  walked  in  on  them,  and  she  looked  up  at  him  very 
happily  as  he  entered.  The  mother  curtsied ,  which  pleased 
him.  So  that  he  made  himself  most  agreeable  to  them  both, 
and  did  not  take  Sallie  away  at  once  as  he  had  intended. 
He  was  quite  gratified  to  see  how  graciously  she  filled  the 
part  of  Lady  Bountiful.  He  wanted  her  to  be  popular 


BEGGAR  -  MY  -  NEIGHBOUR  241 

among  the  villagers,  and  meant  to  make  himself  popular  as 
well.  He  was  only  afraid  that  her  ignorance  of  the  conven- 
tions might  lead  her  into  making  herself  too  cheap. 

She  was  only  a  young  girl  yet,  and  he  knew  that  her  in- 
nate purity  of  mind  had  never  been  sullied  nor  her  sweet, 
loyal,  lovable  nature  in  any  way  warped  amid  the  strange 
surroundings  and  circumstances  in  which  she  had  lived  till 
then.  She  was  as  happy  playing  with  the  cottager's  child 
as  she  would  have  been  in  a  palace.  But  —  the  daughter 
of  Torquil  Fitz-J.  Justice,  Earl  of  Jura  and  Baron  St.  Just 
of  Justicehall  and  Loquhariot,  must  not  make  herself  too 
cheap,  thought  Slyne.  And  presently  he  suggested  to  her 
that  it  was  time  to  be  going. 

She  rose,  a  little  reluctantly,  and  followed  him;  while 
he  bowed  patronisingly  to  the  fisherman's  wife  —  just  as 
he  imagined  a  grand  gentleman  would  do. 

He  did  not  demur  when  Sallie  turned  down  the  village 
street  instead  of  up-hill  again.  He  was  quite  pleased  to 
show  himself  there  at  her  side  —  and  touch  his  cap  con- 
descendingly in  response  to  the  salutations  of  all  who  passed. 
He  only  omitted  that  very  casual  courtesy  to  Justin  Car- 
thew,  standing  at  the  door  of  the  Inn. 

"  I  suppose  there's  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Carthew  was 
wrongly  informed  by  his  lawyers,  Jasper?  "  Sallie  asked 
him  a  few  minutes  later. 

"  No  doubt  in  the  world,"  Slyne  answered  her.  "  He's 
of  no  account  at  all  now.  The  best  thing  he  can  do  now 
for  himself  is  to  clear  off  back  to  America,  where  he 
belongs. 

"  And  —  there's  another  thing,  my  dear.  Captain  Dove 
and  that  fat  ass  Jobling  have  got  to  go  too.  We'll  never 
have  any  peace  while  they're  hanging  about.  But  they're 


242  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

both  inclined  to  be  troublesome,  and  I  want  you  to  back 
me  up  against  them. 

"  It  was  Captain  Dove  who  ordered  the  beacon  to  be 
lighted  last  night.  And  —  Lord  only  knows  how  much 
annoyance  that  may  cause  us  yet!  In  fact,  they're  a  pretty 
difficult  pair  to  handle.  So,  when  we  get  back  to  the  castle, 
I  want  you  to  tell  them  that  you  intend  to  keep  your 
promise  to  me;  I'll  be  better  able  to  manage  them  then, 
you  see. 

"  You  haven't  forgotten  just  what  you  promised  me, 
have  you?  " 

"  No,  Jasper,"  answered  the  girl,  and  gazed  across  the 
wind-swept  loch  with  fond,  despairing  eyes,  "  I  haven't 
forgotten.  And  —  I'll  keep  my  promise,  if  —  when  the 
time  comes." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  JURA   SUCCESSION 

CAPTAIN  DOVE,  sucking  at  his  black  cutty-pipe 
in  the  library  of  Loquhariot,  looked  very  con- 
temptuously at  Mr.  Jobling.  It  was  self-evident 
that  Mr.  Jobling  was  afraid  of  Slyne  and  feeling  very  sorry 
for  himself. 

But  Captain  Dove  was  in  no  such  disconsolate  mood. 
Glancing  at  the  despondent  lawyer  out  of  his  little  red- 
rimmed  eyes,  he  even  grinned,  still  more  contemptuously. 
He  was  not  afraid  of  Slyne,  he  told  himself,  and  it  made  no 
material  difference  to  him  that  his  recent  attempt  to  brow- 
beat that  grasping  scoundrel  had  failed,  even  with  the 
London  lawyer  for  ally.  For  Captain  Dove  did  not  intend 
that  either  of  the  other  two  should  eventually  get  the  better 
of  him.  He  was  playing  a  waiting  game,  in  which  he  meant 
to  come  out  winner  at  any  cost. 

So  far  as  Captain  Dove  was  concerned  there  were  only 
two  persons  really  concerned  in  the  question  of  the  Jura 
succession.  One  was  Sallie,  the  other  himself  —  her 
adopted  father! 

He  looked  upon  Mr.  Jobling  as  a  mere  mechanical  in- 
strument, such  as  could  be  replaced  at  a  moment's  notice 
if  that  were  needful,  now  that  the  legal  details  of  the  case 
had  been  carried  so  far  toward  final  success.  Slyne  was 
absolutely  superfluous  there  and  had  outlived  his  usefulness, 


244  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

in  so  far,  at  least,  as  Captain  Dove  was  concerned.  More 
than  that,  he  was  in  Captain  Dove's  way.  So,  to  some 
extent,  was  Justin  Carthew,  since  it  seemed  that  Sallie  felt 
called  upon  to  make  a  fool  of  herself  for  his  benefit;  but 
Captain  Dove  did  not  anticipate  any  great  difficulty  in 
dealing  with  him.  And  so  was  Herries,  the  factor,  who  had 
so  many  inconvenient  questions  to  ask  —  although  he 
need  scarcely  be  taken  into  account  at  present  while  he 
was  abed  and  likely  to  be  there  for  some  time  to  come. 

With  all  of  these,  in  any  case,  he  felt  quite  capable  of 
coping  —  except  with  Jasper  Slyne,  who  had  threatened, 
a  few  moments  before  and  in  the  hearing  of  an  attentive 
witness  .  .  .  Slyne  was  undoubtedly  dangerous  now;  and 
it  must  be  his  first  care  to  free  himself  for  all  time  from  the 
risk  of  Slyne's  telling  .  .  . 

"  I  have  it,"  said  Captain  Dove,  his  furrowed  forehead 
suddenly  cleared  and  his  face  contorted  into  a  smile  at 
sight  of  which  Mr.  Jobling  was  seized  with  a  sickly,  sinking 
sensation.  "  I  have  it.  We  must  keep  quiet  of  course, 
until  the  Olive  Branch  turns  up,  but  she  shouldn't  be  very 
long  now,  and  then  — 

"  I'll  send  for  Brasse.  I  warned  that  fool  Slyne  to  play 
fair  with  me  —  but  he  won't.  And  so  —  since  it's  beggar- 
my-neighbour  we're  at,  he  won't  be  my  neighbour  for  long." 

Mr.  Jobling  rose,  coughing  irritably.  The  reek  from 
Captain  Dove's  foul  pipe  was  too  much  for  him. 

"  I'll  go  and  pack  now,"  he  announced.  "  I'd  never  have 
come  here  at  all  if  I  had  thought  —  ' 

"  You  leave  things  here  to  me,  old  cock,"  Captain  Dove 
encouraged  him.  "  And  go  and  jag  your  friend  Spettigrew 
along  till  he  gets  judgment  for  us.  That's  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  the  game  at  present.  Leave  things  here  to 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  245 

me,  and  you'll  find,  when  the  time  comes,  that  Slyne  will 
have  to  take  a  back  seat." 

But  the  stout  solicitor  did  not  seem  grateful  at  all  for 
that  crumb  of  comfort.  He  merely  looked  at  Captain  Dove 
with  equal  dislike  and  disbelief  as  he  left  the  room. 

He  left  the  castle  immediately  after  lunch,  to  catch  the 
steamer  south,  a  little  less  depressed,  perhaps,  after  a  few 
further  words  with  Captain  Dove,  who  thought  it  only 
politic  to  inspirit  him  in  his  efforts  on  Sallie's  behalf.  And 
he  had  not  been  gone  very  long  before  Captain  Dove  began 
to  miss  him  —  as  a  boon-companion,  a  part  which  Slyne 
refused  to  play  any  longer.  So  that  the  old  man  soon  began 
to  find  the  time  hang  very  heavy  on  his  hands,  and  his 
grudge  against  Slyne  always  grew. 

Under  any  circumstances,  he  could  not  have  been  happy 
for  long  on  land.  Nor  could  he  feel  altogether  safe  there, 
even  in  the  distasteful  disguise  he  had  adopted  at  Slyne's 
advice;  and  for  discrediting  which  he  had  been  so  repeatedly 
called  to  account  by  Slyne.  He  could  scarcely  but  repent 
having  sacrificed  his  undisputed  autocracy  on  the  Olive 
Branch  in  order  to  figure  as  a  mere  puppet  in  Slyne's  com- 
pany, as  he  had  undoubtedly  become  since  he  had  left  his 
ship.  He  grew  very  angry  indeed  with  Slyne  when  he 
thought  of  that,  as  he  often  did  during  those  endless  days 
of  waiting. 

It  was  all  Slyne's  fault,  he  assured  himself,  that  he 
was  thus  stranded  there;  that  he  had  not  fifty  cents  left 
to  bless  himself  with,  since  one  expensive  evening  in  Paris; 
and  that,  even  if  he  had  had  such  a  sum  in  his  pockets,  it 
might  have  worn  a  hole  in  them  before  he  could  spend  it, 
in  such  a  forsaken  spot! 

Of  what  use  to  him,  he  inquired  of  himself,  going  off  at 


246  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

another  tangent,  could  a  huge,  ghost-haunted  pile  like  the 
Castle  of  Loquhariot  be?  Or  a  great  empty  barrack  like 
Justicehall?  —  which  reminded  him  unpleasantly  of  the 
Law  Courts  in  London.  How  could  he  ever  hope  to  spend 
such  an  excess  of  wealth  as  was  soon  to  be  Sallie's,  and, 
therefore,  at  his  disposal?  A  perfect  nausea  of  money  pos- 
sessed Captain  Dove  at  such  moments.  He  would  almost 
have  preferred  the  prospect  of  poverty  again,  if  only  for  the 
sake  of  the  interest  in  life  the  struggle  to  live  might  restore 
to  him. 

"  Enough  is  as  good  as  a  feast!  "  said  he  to  himself  every 
now  and  then  while  he  gazed,  with  gloom  in  his  soul,  at  the 
cut-crystal  decanters  on  a  salver  of  solid  silver  which  was 
never  far  from  his  elbow;  and,  with  that  wise  saw  on  his 
lips,  he  would  continue  to  drown  his  contradictory  sorrows 
as  deeply  as  possible. 

But  there  was  luckily  room  and  to  spare  in  the  castle 
for  all  its  inmates.  Slyne  and  he  kept  as  much  as  possible 
out  of  each  other's  way,  although  they  had  resumed  a 
spasmodic  outward  semblance  of  amity,  a  steadfast  inward 
determination  to  get  the  better  of  one  another,  whether  by 
fair  means  or  foul.  He  could  scarcely  seek  Sallie's  company 
now  that  she  knew  his  treacherous  intentions  toward  her. 
The  sick  man,  Herries,  was  still  in  bed,  in  a  sufficiently  pre- 
carious state.  So  that  he  lived  very  much  alone  with  his 
various  grievances,  since  his  walks  abroad,  as  far  as  the 
Jura  Arms,  —  where  he  soon  became  almost  popular  among 
the  occasional  profligates  of  the  village,  —  were  not  so 
frequent  as  they  would  probably  have  been  in  better 
weather. 

A  bitter  east  wind,  bringing  always  more  snow,  had  blown 
almost  ceaselessly  for  the  best  part  of  a  fortnight  before 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  247 

any  change  came  in  the  wildest  weather  that  had  befallen 
Loquhariot  in  long  years. 

The  mountain  roads  for  miles  in  all  directions  were  quite 
impassable.  The  mail-cart,  with  its  driver  and  horses,  and 
also  the  hastily  improvised  snow-plough  which  had  at- 
tempted their  rescue,  lay  buried  deep  below  the  ever  deep- 
ening drift  into  which  it  had  plunged  on  its  last  outward 
journey.  The  single  telegraph-line  that  served  the  locality 
had  broken  down  at  a  dozen  points  which  were  quite  un- 
approachable. Stress  of  weather  had  prevented  the  weekly 
steamer  from  making  its  usual  call.  Loquhariot  was  abso- 
lutely cut  off  from  the  outer  world. 

And  then,  with  a  wet  westerly  wind  which  soon  grew  into 
a  gale,  the  snow  on  the  mountains  began  to  melt  and  floods 
made  matters  still  worse,  swelling  every  unconsidered 
stream  into  a  destructive  torrent,  cutting  wide  chasms 
across  the  precipitous  main-road  over  the  Pass,  under- 
mining its  bridges  and  even  washing  some  of  them  away 
bodily.  In  several  of  the  more  outlying  districts  sheer 
famine  began  to  grow  imminent.  The  flocks  and  herds  of 
the  countryside  were  in  still  worse  case  than  the  wild  deer 
which  had  escaped  from  their  forest  sanctuaries  before  the 
first  of  the  snow  and  had  been  huddling  about  the  village 
while  it  endured. 

No  word  had  come  through  from  Mr.  Jobling  in  all  that 
time.  And  Captain  Dove  was  almost  beyond  the  end  of  his 
outworn  patience  before,  scowling  blackly  out  of  the  library 
window  one  day  when  the  westerly  gale  had  all  but  blown 
itself  out,  he  caught  sight  of  a  shabby,  sea-going,  cargo- 
tramp,  flying  the  Norwegian  flag,  which  seemed  to  be  seek- 
ing an  anchorage  behind  the  Small  Isles  at  the  mouth  of  the 
loch. 


248  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

It  was  the  Olive  Branch.  He  would  have  known  her  in  the 
dark,  disguise  or  no  disguise. 

"  Uh-hum!  "  he  exclaimed,  in  an  ecstasy  of  relief.  "  Now 
I  can  make  things  move  a  little  at  last.  Now  we'll  soon  see 
who's  who  here." 

He  dashed  off  a  peremptory  note  to  his  chief  engineer, 
put  that  in  his  pocket,  clapped  his  smoked  spectacles  on 
his  nose  and  his  soft  felt  hat  on  his  head,  and  made  for  the 
village,  where  he  hoped  to  find,  in  the  Jura  Arms,  a  local 
poacher  who  would  undertake  an  errand  out  to  the  steamer. 

He  found  his  man  at  the  inn,  and  his  credit  there  enabled 
him  to  drive  a  speedy  bargain.  It  also  helped  him  to  pass 
the  time  contentedly  enough  till  the  fishing-boat  returned 
from  its  wet  trip  with  word  for  the  public  that  the  strange 
steamer  had  put  into  the  loch  on  account  of  an  accident  in 
her  engine-room  which  would  delay  her  there  for  a  little, 
although  she  would  need  no  help  from  the  village;  and  with 
a  hasty  private  note  from  the  chief  engineer  for  Captain 
Dove  —  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Brasse  refused  to  come 
ashore. 

"  Curse  him!  "  snarled  Captain  Dove  as  his  messenger 
retired  to  the  bar  again.  "  I  suppose  he's  afraid  of  the  po- 
lice —  though  there  isn't  a  policeman  within  thirty  miles, 
and,  even  if  there  were,  it  wouldn't  matter  very  much." 
And  he  sat  down  to  compose  another  and  still  more  per- 
emptory note,  bidding  Brasse  obey  his  lawful  commands  or 
take  the  consequences  of  disobedience. 

He  would  have  put  off  to  the  steamer  himself  but  for 
the  obvious  reasons  against  that  course.  And,  to  induce 
his  messenger  to  make  the  trip  again  after  dark,  he  had  to 
promise  the  man  twice  as  much  as  for  the  first  run,  still 
outstanding. 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  249 

When  he  finally  emerged  from  the  inn,  in  no  very  pleas- 
ant temper,  he  caught  sight,  first,  of  the  weekly  steamer 
already  half  way  up  the  loch,  inward  bound,  and  then  of 
Sallie  at  a  bend  of  the  road  in  the  distance,  on  her  way  back 
to  the  castle  from  the  village.  There  was  some  one  with 
her.  It  was  Carthew. 

Captain  Dove  became  still  more  incensed,  and,  his  mind 
a  good  deal  inflamed  by  his  recent  potations,  set  off  up  the 
hill  in  pursuit  of  them,  breathing  noisily,  not  even  pausing  to 
scowl  at  the  children  who  scurried  indoors  as  he  passed  with 
the  skirts  of  his  long  black  coat  streaming  out  behind  him. 

He  had  heard  from  Slyne  that  Herries,  the  factor,  had 
formally  appointed  the  young  American  his  deputy  until 
he  should  be  able  to  undertake  his  own  duties  again.  And, 
in  spite  of  all  Slyne  and  he  could  say  to  Sallie,  she  had  ob- 
stinately refused  to  assist  in  getting  rid  of  Carthew.  He 
had  heard  from  Slyne  that  Carthew  was  making  far  too 
many  occasions  for  seeing  her,  and  when  he  had  cautioned 
Sallie  on  that  score  she  had  shown  no  disposition  at  all  to 
take  his  advice. 

"  I've  warned  her  often  enough,"  he  muttered  with 
steadily  rising  wrath,  "  to  quit  monkeying  with  that  fel- 
low. And  she'll  get  right  out  of  hand  now,  unless  I  let  her 
see,  once  and  for  all,  who's  going  to  be  master  here.  Where 
would  I  come  in  if  he  managed  to  get  married  to  her!  He's 
got  to  go.  That's  all  there  is  to  it.  I  can't  afford  to  have 
him  hanging  about  here  any  longer." 

The  couple  in  front  seemed  to  be  in  no  hurry,  however. 
He  had  almost  overtaken  them  before  he  paused  at  a  hazel- 
clump  to  cut  himself  a  stout  cudgel.  By  the  time  he  had 
got  that  trimmed  to  his  taste,  they  had  almost  reached  the 
castle. 


250  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I'll  wait  till  she's  gone  in,"  said  Captain  Dove  to  him- 
self. He  had  noticed  that  Carthew  was  carrying  what  looked 
like  a  woodman's  axe.  But  that  did  not  daunt  him  at  all 
in  his  purpose.  He  lingered  along  the  edge  of  an  alder- 
thicket  until  at  length  Sallie  shook  hands  in  very  friendly 
fashion  with  the  young  American  and  went  her  own  way, 
while  Carthew  took  to  a  trail  through  the  woods  and  made  off 
at  a  round  pace,  notwithstanding  his  limp,  axe  on  shoulder, 
whistling  blithely. 

The  path  he  was  following  wound  in  and  out  among 
plantations  of  pine  and  great  groves  of  grey,  leafless  birches, 
until,  at  a  distance  of  half  a  mile,  it  found  the  clear  edge 
of  the  cliffs  overlooking  the  circular  inlet  which  forms  the 
head  of  the  loch,  and  finally  faded  away  at  the  marge  of  a 
smooth  plateau  of  bare  rock  enclosed  on  three  sides  by  a 
thick  tangle  of  woodland  and  rank  undergrowth. 

Captain  Dove  stalked  him  with  all  precaution,  stepping 
from  stone  to  stone  among  the  wet  snow  which  was  rapidly 
melting,  so  that  he  might  leave  no  traceable  footprints  on 
the  soft,  spongy  soil  or  damp,  dead  leaves.  And  once,  when 
Carthew  halted  to  light  a  pipe,  the  old  man,  with  murder 
in  his  mind,  dropped  into  cover  behind  a  moss-grown 
boulder  at  one  side  of  the  path  —  because  that  would  have 
been  a  most  unadvisable  spot  at  which  to  attack  a  man 
armed  with  an  axe.  Then,  as  Carthew  moved  on,  he  once 
more  took  up  the  pursuit,  through  the  clu-nps  of  bramble 
and  bracken  between  the  dark  trunks  of  the  firs  about 
him. 

Carthew  stepped  unconcernedly  out  of  the  dusk  of  the 
woods  into  the  open  space  at  the  end  of  the  path,  and 
stopped  there,  axe  on  shoulder,  to  look  about  him.  But 
Captain  Dove  did  not  immediately  spring  upon  him  as  he 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  251 

had  been  minded  to  do,  for  he  had  just  observed,  at  a  cor- 
ner of  the  convenient  plateau,  a  round  hut,  stone-built  and 
roofed  with  heather,  which  might  or  might  not  be  inhabited. 
Captain  Dove  wormed  his  way  round  toward  it,  within  the 
thicket. 

The  windows  of  the  hut  were  shuttered  and  its  door  pad- 
locked on  the  outside.  Captain  Dove  was  delighted.  He 
turned  to  squint  across  at  Carthew  from  behind  a  bush  and 
judge  his  distance,  but  still  delayed  his  attack. 

Carthew  seemed  to  have  seen  something  of  interest  in 
the  dark  wood  behind  Captain  Dove,  and  Captain  Dove 
looked  round  in  instant  alarm.  It  would  have  been  most 
unpleasant  to  find  that  he  himself  was  being  spied  upon. 
There  was  some  one  or  some  thing,  a  tall  white  shadow,  very 
dimly  discernible,  moving  among  the  gloom. 

A  sudden  and  most  unusual  sensation  of  panic  seized 
Captain  Dove.  The  inexplicable  shape  was  flitting  sound- 
lessly toward  him.  He  felt  thankful  that  Carthew  was  there 
behind  him,  alive  and  well,  for  company.  But  when  he  rose 
upright  and  glanced  swiftly  over  one  shoulder  the  plateau 
was  empty.  Carthew  had  gone. 

The  evening  was  drawing  in,  and  even  the  pathway  by 
which  they  had  come  there  was  growing  dim  as  the  light 
slowly  failed.  Captain  Dove  made  a  blind  dash  for  it  across 
the  open  space,  and  so  fled  headlong,  in  fear. 

He  only  once  looked  back,  and  then  he  saw  the  shadow 
again.  It  was  following  him.  And  he  did  not  stop  running 
till  he  reached  the  drawbridge  of  the  castle.  But  there  he 
halted,  panting,  to  swear  at  himself  for  a  superstitious  old 
fool,  and  stare  back  into  the  woods  with  eyes  in  which  terror 
was  mingled  with  rage. 

"Some  stray  cow  —  or  maybe  a  stag!  "  he  declared  to 


252  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

himself.  "  If  I  had  had  a  shot-gun  handy  —  or  even  my 
revolver  —  " 

But,  stare  as  he  would,  he  could  see  nothing  more  of  the 
creature.  And  he  went  in  through  the  postern,  still  swear- 
ing under  his  breath. 

He  had  never  felt  quite  at  his  ease  in  the  great  main  hall 
of  the  castle,  which,  with  its  empty  suits  of  mail  in  all  sorts 
of  unexpected  corners,  the  flags  overhead  flapping  sound- 
lessly in  every  draught,  the  pale  faces  peering  down  from 
their  dark  frames  in  the  gallery,  possessed  an  uncanny  at- 
mosphere of  its  own,  especially  in  the  dusk. 

However,  the  two  big  fires  blazing  on  their  cavernous 
hearths  at  either  side  of  its  wide  expanse  made  it  a  good 
deal  more  homelike,  less  eerie  than  it  had  seemed  when  he 
had  first  seen  it.  And  he  crossed  it  almost  without  concern 
on  his  way  toward  his  own  quarters  in  the  North  Keep. 

But  by  the  way  some  obscure  movement  among  the 
shadows  beyond  the  nearer  fire  brought  his  heart  to  his 
mouth  again  in  an  instant,  and  a  hand  slipped  mechanically 
toward  the  empty  hip-pocket  beneath  the  skirt  of  his  coat. 
He  had  halted.  He  moved  on,  into  the  dim  recess  whence 
some  one  was  watching  him,  and  presently  emerged  again, 
dragging  after  him  into  the  firelight  a  shock-headed,  pasty- 
faced  lad,  whose  long  neck  was  writhing  in  anguish  as  Cap- 
tain Dove  gave  the  long  ear  between  his  finger  and  thumb 
another  fierce  tweak. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here!  "  the  old  man  de- 
manded, peering  into  the  features  of  Mr.  Jobling's  mana- 
ging clerk. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Mullins  with  legal  exactitude. 
But  he  quickly  became  more  discursive  under  Captain 
Dove's  threatening  glance.  "  Mr.  Jobling  brought  me  here 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  253 

with  him,"  he  explained.  "  We  arrived  by  the  steamer  an 
hour  ago,  after  a  most  terrible  passage.  I  never  saw 
such  —  " 

Captain  Dove  silenced  him  with  a  scowl.  "  Where's 
your  master?  "  he  demanded. 

"  In  there,"  replied  Mullins  promptly,  pointing  to  the 
door  of  the  gun-room,  which  opened  off  the  main  hall;  and 
Captain  Dove,  casting  him  loose  without  more  words, 
marched  in  upon  Mr.  Jobling  and  Slyne  in  excited  confer- 
ence. 

They  looked  round  as  the  door  opened,  and  the  lawyer, 
seeing  who  the  unceremonious  intruder  was,  waved  a  fat 
hand  in  gleeful  welcome.  "  We're  safe  now,"  he  vociferated. 
"  The  Jura  succession  is  settled  at  last.  Where's  Lady 
Josceline?  She'll  be  Countess  of  Jura  in  her  own  right  as 
soon  as  —  " 

"  Not  so  much  of  your  noise,"  Captain  Dove  com- 
manded, and,  suddenly,  reopening  the  door,  all  but  overset 
himself  in  accomplishing  a  hasty  kick,  which  elicited  a  loud 
yelp  from  without. 

"  Was  that  Mullins!  "  Mr.  Jobling  exclaimed.  "  I  don't 
know  what  I'm  to  do  with  him.  He's  really  becoming  a 
dangerous  nuisance.  I  had  to  bring  him  away  from  London 
with  me  to  prevent  him  —  " 

"  He'll  keep  clear  of  keyholes  for  a  while,"  Captain  Dove 
put  in  confidently.  "  Now  let's  hear  your  news." 

Mr.  Jobling's  clouded  face  cleared  again.  "  You've  heard 
it  already,"  he  said.  "  I've  won  our  case.  The  Chancery 
Court  has  admitted  my  proofs.  We  are  to  attend  again, 
all  of  us,  the  day  after  to-morrow  if  possible,  when  Mr. 
Justice  Gaunt  will  give  us  decree.  And  Lady  Josceline  will 
be  the  Countess  of  Jura  as  soon  as  —  " 


254  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  When  will  she  get  any  money?  "  asked  Captain  Dove 
bluntly,  and  Mr.  Jobling  looked  pained. 

"  By  Friday,  I  should  think,"  he  stated,  "  I'll  have  every- 
thing in  such  shape  that  she  can  draw  a  cheque  for  a 
mill—  " 

"  She'll  draw  no  cheques,"  Slyne  interrupted  decisively. 
"  You  know  very  well  that  I  have  her  formal  authority  to 
attend  to  all  such  matters  for  her.  Whatever  small  sums 
she  may  require  /'//  procure  for  her,  and  any  payments  to 
be  made  on  her  behalf  /'//  make." 

He  met  with  perfect  tranquillity  the  glances  of  his  asso- 
ciates. "  I'll  go  and  tell  her  the  news  now,"  he  remarked, 
and  left  the  room. 

As  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  the  lawyer 
turned  toward  Captain  Dove,  and,  "  Well?  "  he  asked 
eagerly.  "  Was  that  your  ship  I  saw  at  the  mouth  of  the 
loch?  How  are  you  going  to  get  rid  of  that  domineering 
upstart?  There  isn't  much  time  left  to  —  " 

Captain  Dove  held  up  a  protesting  hand,  but  Mr.  Job- 
ling  would  not  be  put  down  in  that  manner.  He  was  evi- 
dently determined  now  to  stand  up  for  himself  and  those 
hard-earned  rights  out  of  which  Slyne  had  undoubtedly 
jockeyed  him  in  the  most  bare-faced,  contemptuous  man- 
ner. 

"  I  really  must  insist  on  knowing  what  you  mean  to  do," 
he  declared  irascibly.  "  I  have  far  too  much  at  stake  to 
leave  anything  to  chance  at  this  late  moment.  Once  Mr. 
Slyne  reaches  London,  it  will  be  too  late  to  —  " 

"Hold  your  row!"  ordered  Captain  Dove,  so  fiercely 
that  Mr.  Jobling  jumped.  "  And  —  don't  interfere  in  what 
doesn't  concern  you.  All  you  need  to  know  is  that  —  Slyne 
will  never  see  London  again.  Does  that  satisfy  you?  " 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  255 

"  It  would  —  if  I  could  believe  it,"  observed  Mr.  Jobling, 
valiantly.  "  But  —  "  - 

"  And  neither  will  you,  if  you  worry  me,"  added  Captain 
Dove  in  a  voice  which  seemed  to  affect  his  neighbour's  nerve 
very  adversely.  "  So  help  yourself  to  another  peg  and  pass 
the  bottle.  I  can  scarcely  hear  myself  think  for  your  chat- 
ter, and  I've  got  a  good  deal  to  think  about." 

Mr.  Jobling  did  his  very  best  to  meet  the  old  man's 
irate  glance  resolutely,  but  his  own  irresolute,  blinking  eyes 
soon  fell  before  the  cold  menace  in  Captain  Dove's.  He 
replenished  his  glass,  and  having  sulkily  shoved  the  decan- 
ter across  the  table,  lay  back  in  his  chair. 

"  You  said  that  she  could  draw  her  money  on  Friday, 
didn't  you?  "  asked  Captain  Dove,  and  he  nodded,  with 
very  ill  grace. 

"  And  Slyne  has  her  power  of  attorney  to  sign  any  cheques 
he  likes  to  write,"  the  old  man  went  on  musingly.  "  But 
—  that  doesn't  matter.  Brasse  will  be  ashore  to-night. 
And  we'll  be  off  to  London  to-morrow,  me  an'  you,  Jobling, 
d'ye  hear?  " 

Mr.  Jobling  could  not  deny  that  he  heard,  and  did  not 
seem  inclined  to  ask  any  more  questions.  But  Captain 
Dove  had  a  great  many  more  to  ask  him,  and  when  Slyne 
looked  into  the  room,  some  time  later,  he  found  the  two  of 
them  chatting  quite  amicably.  They  both  fell  silent,  how- 
ever, at  sight  of  him.  i 

"  Lady  Josceline  is  entertaining  visitors,"  he  announced: 
"  the  Duchess  of  Dawn  —  and  that  unlicked  cub  In- 
goldsby." 

"  Lord  Ingoldsby's  her  grace's  nephew,  of  course,"  Mr. 
Jobling  mentioned  reverentially.  "  And  one  of  the  wealthi- 
est peers  in  England  —  or  anywhere  else.  But  —  how  did 


256  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

they  get  here?  Dawn's  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains, 
and  —  " 

"  They  rode  across,"  said  Slyne,  "  to  find  out  who  was 
here.  If  Dove  hadn't  ordered  the  beacon  to  be  lighted  the 
night  we  arrived,  they'd  never  have  heard  —  But  maybe, 
after  all,  it  will  help  - 

"  They're  going  to  dine  and  stay  the  night,  anyhow. 
It's  come  on  to  snow  again. 

"  There's  a  great  hullabaloo  below-stairs,"  he  said  in  a 
somewhat  querulous  tone  as  he  crossed  toward  the  fireplace 
and  helped  himself  to  a  cigarette  from  the  silver  box  on  the 
mantel.  "  One  of  the  gamekeepers  sent  in  word  that  he 
had  seen  the  '  white  lady  '  about  in  the  woods  this  after- 
noon. And  now  an  hysterical  housemaid  is  having  fits  in 
the  servants'  hall,  on  the  insufficient  ground  that  she  had 
met  the  same  mysterious  personage  in  one  of  the  passages 
a  little  ago.  The  whole  outfit,  in  fact,  are  in  the  very  devil 
of  a  fluster." 

"  How  unfortunate!  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Jobling,  while  Cap- 
tain Dove  was  still  regarding  Slyne  with  an  expression  of 
mingled  doubt  and  dismay.  "  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  ill-timed,  too  —  since  her  grace  is  going  to  honour  us 
with  her  company.  Every  one  about  the  place  believes 
implicitly  in  that  old  superstition  —  and  they  say,  you 
know,  that  the  head  of  the  family  has  died  whenever  the 
so-called  '  white  lady  '  has  made  her  appearance." 

Slyne  laughed,  and  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  from  his  nos- 
trils. 

"  Lady  Josceline  will  outlast  most  of  us,"  he  declared  with 
the  utmost  nonchalance.  "  And,  in  any  case,  I've  dared 
anyone  to  breathe  a  word  about  it  to  her.  We  don't  want 
our  dinner  spoiled  with  any  nonsense  of  that  sort." 


THE  JURA  SUCCESSION  257 

Mr.  Jobling  got  up  to  go,  alleging  that  he  was  tired  after 
his  long  journey  and  wanted  a  rest  before  dinner. 

"  Of  course,  it's  all  nonsense,"  he  agreed,  if  with  no  great 
conviction.  "  But  it  won't  be  before  to-morrow  that  you'll 
get  the  Highlanders  here  to  believe  that." 

Slyne  laughed  again,  contemptuously,  as  the  lawyer  left 
the  room,  and  then  turned  toward  Captain  Dove. 

"  You  don't  believe  in  ghosts,  do  you,  Dove?  "  he  de- 
manded, quite  well  aware  of  the  old  man's  weakness  in  that 
respect. 

"  I've  seen  one  or  two  in  my  time,"  answered  that  super- 
stitious seaman  in  a  low  growl. 

"  You're  luckier  than  I've  ever  been,  then,"  said  Slyne 
mockingly.  "  And  I  only  believe  in  what  I  can  see  for  my- 
self. But,  all  the  same,  I'm  not  going  to  take  any  losing 
chances.  And,  you  must  admit,  it  would  be  most  damnably 
awkward  for  us  if  Sallie  should,  by  any  chance,  fall  under 
the  fatal  spell  of  the  family  spectre." 

Captain  Dove  gave  voice  to  another  growl,  unintelligible, 
and  moved  restlessly  in  his  chair.  It  had  not,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  occurred  to  him  that  any  immediate  mischance  to 
Sallie  must  mean  ruin  to  himself.  And  Slyne's  sneering 
insensibility  was  difficult  to  endure  when  he  recalled  what 
he  himself  had  also  seen  in  the  woods. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  as  well  in  any  case  to  make  sure 
that  we  won't  be  left  lamenting  her  and  absolutely  penni- 
less," Slyne  went  on,  his  features  suddenly  set  and  serious. 
"  And  I'm  going  to  make  things  safe  for  us  all  to-night,"  he 
affirmed.  "  Are  you  listening,  Dove? 

"  It  might  be  dangerous  now  to  delay  even  until  to- 
morrow. You  and  I  have  too  much  at  stake  to  run  any 
avoidable  risk.  And  remember  that,  if  you  fail  me  again, 


258  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

it  isn't  only  a  matter  of  the  money  you'll  lose  by  your  folly. 
I  know  very  well  that  Jobling  and  you  have  been  plotting 
together  against  me,  but  —  I  don't  believe  you've  forgotten 
what  I  told  you  both  the  day  before  he  left  for  London.  It 
would  scarcely  be  worth  your  while  to  go  back  on  me  now 
and  spend  the  rest  of  your  life  in  prison,  or,  much  more 
probably,  —  hang." 

Captain  Dove  nodded  perfectly  civil  assent  to  that  self- 
evident  proposition.  He  was  inwardly  wondering  at  what 
hour  Brasse  would  be  ashore. 

"  Very  well,"  Slyne  concluded.  "  You've  got  to  stand  by 
me,  for  your  own  sake.  I'm  going  to  clinch  matters  with 
Sallie  now.  I'll  announce  our  engagement  at  dinner.  And 
immediately  after  dinner,  she  and  I  will  go  through  the 
simple  formality  of  a  Scotch  marriage  —  the  worthy  Mrs. 
M'Kissock  has  told  me  exactly  how  that  can  be  done.  The 
duchess  will  serve  as  one  witness  and  I'll  find  another  trust- 
worthy one.  So  that,  all  going  well,  the  future  Countess 
of  Jura  will  be  my  lawful  wife  before  any  harm  can  come  to 
her  even  from  the  '  white  lady.'  How  does  that  strike  you, 
eh?" 

Captain  Dove  once  more  nodded  polite  agreement,  and 
then  looked  very  slowly  round  over  one  shoulder  behind 
him.  Slyne  darted  an  involuntary  glance  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, and  the  fag-end  of  his  cigarette  fell  from  between 
nerveless  fingers.  A  sudden  pallor  had  overspread  his 
tanned  features,  and  something  very  like  fear  looked  out  of 
his  eyes  at  the  dim  white  form  standing  motionless  just 
beyond  the  range  of  the  lamplight. 


Something  very  like  fear  looked  out  of  his  eyes. 


THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART 

THE  shadow  which  had  followed  Captain  Dove 
throughout  his  headlong  flight  from  the  hut  on  the 
cliffs  had  halted  behind  a  bush  at  the  edge  of  the 
wood  while  he  lingered  on  the  drawbridge  to  look  back. 
As  soon  as  he  disappeared  through  the  postern  it  flitted  in 
the  dusk  across  the  gravel  sweep  in  front  of  the  castle,  down 
into  the  dry  moat  and  up  again  on  the  other  side  to  a  dark 
window:  through  which  it  gained  easy  ingress.  And  from 
that  point,  moving  stealthily  and  with  extreme  precaution 
along  the  servants'  passageways,  it  finally  reached  the 
housekeeper's  quarters:  where  it  stood  listening  intently 
for  a  few  seconds  before  stepping  in  on  Mrs.  M'Kissock. 

She  was  seated  at  her  early  supper,  alone,  and  looked 
round  in  surprise,  which  quickly  deepened  into  dire  be- 
wilderment and  dread. 

"  Parish!  "  she  whispered  with  pale  lips,  as  he  cast  off 
the  soiled  and  travel-worn  white  Arab  cloak  which  had 
covered  him,  showing  himself  a  big,  bent,  white-bearded, 
fierce-looking,  haggard-faced  fellow,  barefooted,  almost  in 
rags.  He  was  glancing  about  him  with  the  expression  of  a 
wild  beast  in  a  cage  while  the  old  housekeeper  gazed  at 
him,  breathing  over-quickly,  her  hands  at  her  heart. 

"  Ay,  it's  Farish,  Janet,"  said  he  at  length,  in  a  very 
bitter  voice,  and  threw  himself  wearily  into  a  chair.  "  None 


260  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

other  than  your  ne'er-do-well  brother,  Parish,  come  home 
to  die  on  your  hands.  I've  been  hiding  in  the  woods  all  day, 
waiting  a  chance  to  creep  in.  I'm  starving,  too." 

She  turned,  trembling  sickly,  to  a  full  cupboard  and  set 
more  food  on  the  table  in  haste.  He  fell  upon  it  like  a 
famished  wolf,  and  while  he  was  devouring  it  they  talked, 
in  broken  sentences. 

"  Where  have  you  come  from  —  in  such  a  state?  "  the 
old  woman  asked,  watching  him  with  woe  in  her  face. 

"  From  hell,"  he  mumbled  hoarsely,  his  mouth  full,  "  to 
square  accounts  with  another  devil  who  seems  to  have  made 
the  Castle  of  Loquhariot  his  home  too.  What's  Dove,  as 
he  calls  himself,  doing  here,  Janet?  " 

"  He  came  with  the  Lady  Josceline  Justice,"  Mrs. 
M'Kissock  made  difficult  answer. 

"  He  came  with  the  Lady  Josceline  Justice!  "  repeated 
her  brother  mechanically,  and  ceased  eating  for  an  instant 
to  stare  at  her  out  of  blank,  disbelieving  eyes.  Then  he 
went  on  with  his  ravenous  feast  and  his  questioning.  "  Who 
else  is  here?  " 

"  Mr.  Slyne,"  his  sister  told  him  meekly,  "  and  Mr.  Job- 
ling,  her  ladyship's  London  lawyer.  The  Duchess  of  Dawn 
and  Lord  Ingoldsby  came  across  the  Pass  to  call  on  her 
ladyship  this  afternoon.  And  there's  Mr.  Herries,  too,  ill 
in  bed,  as  he's  been  since  the  night  of  her  ladyship's  com- 
ing." 

"  I  know  the  man  Slyne,"  muttered  Parish  M'Kissock. 
"  But  —  what's  Lady  Josceline  Justice  like?  " 

He  listened  attentively  to  his  sister's  brief,  fond  descrip- 
tion, and  then  pushed  the  plates  from  before  him. 

"  Can  you  give  me  something  to  drink  now?  "  he  asked, 
in  a  strained,  unsteady  voice.  She  brought  him  a  bottle 


THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART        261 

of  wine  from  the  cupboard  and  he  swallowed  some,  very 
sparingly.  It  brought  a  little  colour  back  into  his  ashen 
face. 

"  I'll  eat  some  more  in  a  minute  or  two,"  he  muttered, 
and  sank  back  into  his  chair,  and  sighed.  And  there  he  sat, 
still  and  silent,  while  the  big  grandfather's  clock  in  its  cor- 
ner ticked  away  an  eternity  of  suspense. 

"  And  so  it's  —  her!  "  he  whispered  to  himself,  and 
looked  up  at  his  sister  again  as  if  he  had  been  unaware  of 
her  company. 

"  Listen,  Janet,"  said  he  then,  in  a  stronger  voice,  "  and 
I'll  tell  you  something  of  what  I  owe  Dove. 

"  When  I  had  to  flee  this  country,  at  the  time  of  Lord 
St.  Just's  death,  I  took  to  the  sea  for  a  while,  and,  knock- 
ing about  the  world,  I  chanced  across  Dove  and  his  ship  — 
the  old  Per  de  Lance  it  was  then.  And  I  signed  on  with  him 

—  it  was  in  San  Thome  —  for  reasons  that  don't  matter 
now.    But  he  and  I  soon  fell  foul  of  each  other  —  for  reasons 
that  don't  matter  either  —  and  what  d'ye  think  he  did  to 
get  rid  of  me!   He  set  me  ashore,  on  the  African  coast,  alone 

—  to  die  in  the  desert  there." 

A  dangerous  light  was  beginning  to  burn  in  his  sunken 
eyes.  He  had  set  his  two  twitching  hands  on  the  table, 
was  leaning  forward. 

"  But  —  I  didn't  die,  after  all,  you  see,"  he  said.  "  I 
didn't  die  then,  Janet.  I'm  not  dead  yet. 

"  It  would  only  weary  you  to  hear  all  that  happened  to 
me  before  I  came  into  my  kingdom.  For  I  was  as  good  as 
a  king  there,  Janet,  and  — 

"  No,  I'm  not  mad,  though  I  might  well  be  after  all  I've 
suffered  through  —  him.  It  was  a  kingdom  I'd  made  for 
myself  before  he  came  my  way  again.  From  Tripoli  to  the 


262  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Sus,  my  word  was  all  but  law,  and  there  was  scarcely  a 
tribe  but  paid  me  tribute.  The  Sultan  of  Morocco  himself 
would  send  me  presents  when  I  passed  by.  I've  fought  and 
beaten  the  French,  time  and  again,  in  country  they  claim 
for  their  own.  They  knew  the  Emir  El  Parish,  Janet,  al- 
though you  think  that  it's  raving  I  am. 

"  But  never  mind  that.  What  you'll  understand  better 
is  that  I  had  come  to  be  a  very  rich  man  there.  I  had  horses 
and  camels  by  hundreds,  and  gold  and  jewels  almost  more 
than  I  had  time  to  count,  and  an  army  of  fine  fighting  men 
to  keep  them  all  safe.  I  had  wealth  as  well  as  power,  all 
but  as  much  as  I  wanted  of  both,  when  Dove  came  slinking 
into  my  camp  on  the  coast  one  dark  night,  like  some  dirty 
jackal. 

"  His  ship  was  lying  in  the  bight,  and  —  I  had  business 
on  board  with  him.  I  went  off  in  a  boat,  with  no  more  than 
two  of  my  men,  blind  fool  that  I  was! 

"  I  might  have  known  better,"  he  mused  very  bitterly, 
"  but  - 

"  He  struck  me  down  from  behind.  He  turned  me  and 
my  men  adrift,  insensible,  in  an  open  boat. 

"  It  blew  out  to  sea.  I  lived,  without  food  or  water, 
for  nearly  a  week  before  I  was  picked  up  by  a  passing 
steamer  that  took  me  to  Spain,  but  the  other  two 
died. 

"  I  was  as  good  as  a  king  in  Africa,  and  —  Look  at  me 
now!  I've  lost  all  —  all  but  these  rags,  and  I'm  spent,  as 
the  Spaniards  say.  I  can't  go  back  to  reclaim  what  was 
mine.  And  what  will  have  happened  among  my  people 
without  me,  I  can  scarcely  bear  to  think.  For  I  was  fond  of 
them,  Janet,  in  my  own  way.  , 

"But,  after  all,  it's  enough  for  me  now  that  I've  found 


THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART        263 

him  again  —  and  in  time.  I  could  scarcely  believe  that  it 
was  really  him  I  saw  by  the  hut." 

He  was  speaking  in  a  strange,  far-away  voice,  almost 
contemplatively;  and,  while  he  spoke,  he  was  fingering  the 
hilt  of  the  long  sheath-knife  at  his  frayed  black  belt. 

"  Would  you  do  murder  here  again,  Farishl  "  whispered 
his  sister,  her  clasped  hands  still  tight  at  her  heart.  She  had 
heard  him  out  in  tense  silence,  without  a  word.  "  Was 
not  once  enough!  Must  I  be  the  one  to  betray  you  now  — 
lest  you  do  murder  here  again!  " 

Her  brother's  gaunt  features  twisted  slowly  into  a  hor- 
rible grin,  and  relaxed  again  into  an  expression  of  some  con- 
cern as  he  observed  her  evident  stress  of  mind. 

"  It  was  no  murder,  but  justice,  that  I  did  on  Torquil 
St.  Just,"  said  he.  "  He  would  have  killed  me  if  he  could. 
But  I  suppose  they  will  always  blame  me  for  his  death, 
Janet;  and  it  would  no  doubt  go  hard  with  me,  even  after 
all  these  years,  if  any  but  you  knew  my  whereabouts. 

"  But  —  I'm  safe  with  you,  Janet.  And  I'll  do  no  mur- 
der, I  give  you  my  word.  I  have  other  means  — 

"  I'm  safe  with  you,  Janet,"  he  repeated,  glancing  about 
the  quiet,  lamp-lit  room. 

"  None  will  enter  without  my  leave,"  she  hastened  to 
reassure  him.  "  You  can  stay  safe  here,  Farish,  till  we  can 
come  at  some  plan  to  help  each  other,  for  I  cannot  bide 
in  the  castle  for  long  either,  now  you've  come  back. 

"But  —  you  must  work  no  more  harm  in  the  house 
whose  bread  I  have  eaten  so  long.  Whatever  hurt  Torquil 
St.  Just  did  you,  he  has  long  gone  to  his  account,  and  you 
have  surely  no  ill  will  to  her  ladyship.  She  has  suffered 
sorely  too,  poor  thing!  in  her  time,  or  I'm  much  mis- 
taken." 


264  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  When  did  she  come  to  Loquhariot?  "  Parish  demanded. 

"  Not  much  more  than  a  fortnight  ago  —  and  just  in 
time.  For  before  her  had  come,  from  America,  a  far  cousin, 
one  Mr.  Justin  Carthew,  to  claim  the  rights  that  are  hers, 
thinking,  as  I  did  indeed,  that  she  must  be  dead." 

"  You  can  7  mean  yon  whistling,  limber  fellow  that  walks 
with  a  limp?  I  saw  him  too  at  the  hut,"  said  the  wreck  in 
the  chair  at  the  table  with  a  sudden,  fierce,  eager  light  in 
his  lack-lustre  eyes.  "  But  —  I  took  him  for  a  ghost.  How 
came  he  here?  My  men  told  me  — 

His  sister  had  nodded  silently.  She  sat  staring  at  him 
in  abject  suspense,  hope  and  despair  alternately  flitting 
across  her  wrinkled  face. 

But  he  said  nothing  more  for  some  time.  That  last  un- 
accountable twist  of  fate  had  almost  stupefied  him. 

A  telephone  bell  rang  behind  his  sister,  and  startled  him 
out  of  his  reverie. 

"  Mr.  Slyne  says  her  ladyship  wishes  rooms  prepared  for 
the  duchess  and  Lord  Ingoldsby,"  she  told  him  as  she  turned 
back  from  the  instrument.  "  And  dinner's  to  be  served  in 
the  banquet-hall.  I  must  be  off  about  my  business  now, 
Farish.  Will  you  wait  here  till  I  come  again  —  and  promise 
to  work  no  more  harm?  " 

"  I'll  find  a  quieter  corner  to  hide  in,"  he  answered  in- 
differently. And,  in  response  to  her  harassed  glance, ' '  You 
must  just  trust  me  to  take  care  of  myself  and  not  trouble 
you  more  than  need  be,"  he  told  her.  "  I  know  this  old 
vulture's-nest  well  enough  not  to  be  discovered  in  it.  And 
-  I'll  do  Dove  no  violence,  Janet;  you  have  my  pledged 
word  for  that." 

She  lingered  still,  almost  distracted,  not  knowing  what 
to  do  for  the  best.  But  she  did  know,  of  old  and  sad  expe- 


THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART         265 

rience,  how  little  heed  he  was  likely  to  pay  to  any  advice 
or  direction  of  hers,  and  at  last  had  to  hurry  away  to  her 
duties  leaving  him,  safe  enough  there,  to  his  own  devices 
till  she  could  return. 

As  soon  as  she  had  gone,  he  swallowed  a  little  more  of  the 
food  and  wine  on  the  table,  put  on  his  dirty  white  robe 
again,  pulling  its  baggy  hood  well  over  his  features,  and, 
having  assured  himself  that  the  long  passage  down  which  she 
had  disappeared  was  empty,  set  out  with  soundless  but 
steadier  steps  to  secrete  himself  in  some  more  remote  recess 
of  the  spacious  castle. 

He  knew  his  way  about  every  turn  of  the  back-corridors 
intimately.  He  was  passing  the  gun-room  pantry  when  he 
heard  from  within  a  voice  that  he  recognised  at  once,  shout- 
ing, "  Hold  your  row!  "  He  paused.  Distant  footfalls  in 
the  passage  prompted  him  to  a  swift  decision.  The  pantry 
door  was  ajar.  He  pushed  it  a  little  further  open,  stepped 
inside,  and  closed  it  behind  him. 

The  place  was  practically  in  darkness,  but  he  soon  found 
the  service-wicket,  and,  having  first  made  sure  that  he 
would  not  be  intruded  upon,  slipped  the  blade  of  his  knife 
under  its  wooden  shutter,  raised  it,  without  sound,  suffi- 
ciently to  hear  and  see  all  that  was  going  on  in  the  gun-room. 

His  eyes  began  to  gleam  balefully  as  he  looked  through 
at  its  unsuspecting  inmates.  The  old  man  Dove  and  the 
London  lawyer  were  evidently  at  loggerheads,  but  pres- 
ently calmed  down  again,  and  grew  almost  confidential  to- 
gether. And  afterwards  Slyne  came  in  to  them  with  his 
contemptuous  story  of  the  White  Lady  —  at  which  the 
lurking  listener  frowned  anxiously,  since  it  went  to  show 
that  he  must  have  been  seen  notwithstanding  all  his  pre- 
cautions. And  then  the  lawyer  got  up  to  go. 


266 

To  Slyne's  subsequent  conversation  with  Captain  Dove 
the  ex-Emir  listened  no  less  greedily,  licking  his  lips.  And 
after  that  he  pushed  noiselessly  past  the  swing-door  of  the 
pantry,  into  their  company.  He  thought  he  could  see  his 
way  quite  clearly  by  then. 

Slyne  drew  back  in  speechless  alarm  at  sight  of  the  gaunt, 
hooded  figure  coming  forward  on  soundless  feet.  Captain 
Dove  had  made  an  attempt  to  rise,  but  apparently  could 
not;  he  sat  still,  staring  over  one  shoulder,  aghast,  at  that 
grey  ghost  of  a  man  he  had  never  expected  to  see  again. 

Parish  M'Kissock  threw  back  his  hood  and  mutely  held 
out  his  two  empty  hands.  Slyne  let  one  of  his  own  fall  from 
a  hip-pocket.  Captain  Dove  was  evidently  striving  to 
speak.  The  silent  intruder  stood  waiting  to  hear  whatever 
he  might  have  to  say. 

"  How  can  it  be!  "  Captain  Dove  said  at  length,  in  the 
difficult  voice  of  one  amazed  almost  beyond  words,  and  got 
to  his  feet  with  an  effort,  to  scan  the  intruder  still  more 
searchingly,  to  stare  transfixed  at  the  tangled  grey  locks 
which  had  formerly  been  of  a  flaming  red. 

"  It  is  —  Parish!  "  he  whispered  fearfully,  as  if  at  last 
convinced  in  spite  of  himself.  And  the  man  before  him 
nodded  slowly,  three  times. 

"  None  but  me,  Captain  Brown  —  or  Captain  Dove  - 
or  whatever  you  care  to  call  yourself,"  said  Parish  M'Kis- 
sock, and  tried  to  moisten  his  dry  lips  with  a  dry  tongue. 
"  None  but  the  man  you  have  twice  betrayed  and  turned 
adrift  to  die  like  a  dog;  once  in  the  desert  and  yet  again 
in  a  boat  on  the  open  sea." 

"  Didn't  you  get  ashore?  "  Slyne  asked  softly,  as  if  he 
thought  that  the  mysterious  new-comer  must  be  mad,  and 
did  not  desire  to  anger  him. 


THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART         267 

"  Sit  down,  both  of  you,"  said  Parish  M'Kjssock,  "  and 
we'll  talk  together.  'Tis  no  more  than  meet  that  you  should 
both  know  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  what's  to  come. 
I  will  not  seek  to  harm  you,"  he  said,  and  so  sat  down  him- 
self. 

Slyne  seated  himself  on  the  table  and  Captain  Dove  was 
content  with  an  arm  of  the  chair  in  which  he  had  been  en- 
sconced; both  were  obviously  prepared  to  spring  up  again 
instantly.  And  Parish  M'Kissock  looked  at  his  leisure 
from  one  to  the  other  of  them  before  he  said  anything 
more.  Captain  Dove's  unusual  attire  seemed  to  hold  his 
attention. 

"  You've  changed  your  coat  since  you  saw  me  last,"  he 
at  length  remarked  in  an  even,  almost  indifferent  voice. 
"  And  you've  come  to  a  very  snug  anchorage.  You're  both 
going  to  settle  down  here  and  be  gentlemen  now,  I  suppose." 

Captain  Dove  glared  at  him,  but  could  not  overmaster  his 
steady  glance  and  at  last  was  compelled  to  seek  shelter 
behind  his  smoked  glasses,  at  which  added  disguise  his 
enemy  gazed  with  no  less  offensive  interest. 

"  You  have  both  done  very  well  for  yourselves,"  said 
Parish  M'Kissock,  and  turned  toward  Slyne. 

"  You're  going  to  marry  the  Lady  Josceline  Justice,"  said 
he.  "  And  so  —  you'll  be  master  here  —  of  her  and  her 
millions.  You'll  be  a  rich  man  then  —  but  not  so  rich, 
surely,  as  I'd  have  been  if  you  two  had  kept  your  bargain 
with  me;  for  I  was  not  bankrupt  when  Captain  Dove 
promised  her  to  me  —  though  I'm  bankrupt  now." 

His  slow  speech  stung,  but  they  both  heard  him  out  in 
hang-dog  silence. 

"  I'm  bankrupt  now,"  he  repeated,  looking  over  at  Cap- 
tain Dove.  "  All  I  won  for  myself  in  this  world  I've  lost, 


268  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

thanks  to  you.  And  so  —  I've  made  my  way  home,  to 
die.  They  told  me  in  the  hospital  that  I  hadn't  long  to  live 
then,  and  I  reckon  my  tramp  across  the  mountains  will  help 
to  finish  me.  But  —  first,  there's  our  account  to  be  squared ; 
all  I  have  lost." 

"  I'll  make  that  up  to  you,  Parish,"  said  Captain  Dove, 
finding  his  tongue  again,  and  evidently  anxious  to  be  very 
diplomatic  since  he  could  by  no  means  outface  his  former 
accomplice.  "  I'll  do  the  right  thing  by  you  now.  I  hadn't 
any  idea,  you  know,  but  that  you'd  get  safely  ashore  and 
back  to  your  camp  - 

"  It  was  a  long  chance  you  took,  with  the  wind  offshore," 
the  other  broke  in,  without  raising  his  voice,  in  the  same 
implacable  monotone.  "  It  was  almost  too  long.  But  the 
boat  you  set  me  adrift  in  was  picked  up  far  out  at  sea,  with 
two  dead  men  in  it,  and  one  who  was  minded  to  live  long 
enough  to  repay  what  he  owes  you. 

"  What  has  happened  among  my  folks  there,  God  alone 
knows.  But  they  would  fare  ill  without  me,  I  fear,  and  — 
I  had  some  liking  for  them." 

"  You've  always  been  far  too  soft-hearted,  Parish. 
That's  your  only  fault,"  said  Captain  Dove  encouragingly. 
"  Forget  them  —  and  I'll  make  all  the  rest  up  to  you." 

"But  how  did  you  come  here?  "  Slyne  demanded  with 
more  spirit  than  he  had  at  first  shown. 

He  had  to  wait  some  time  for  an  answer,  but  Captain 
Dove  did  not  interrupt  again,  and  presently  the  other  pro- 
ceeded to  make  that  also  more  clear. 

"  You  don't  know  yet  who  I  am  now,"  he  muttered.  "  I 
had  forgotten  - 

"  I'm  Parish  M'Kissock,  own  brother  to  old  Janet,  the 
housekeeper  here.  And  I  was  born  at  Loquhariot,  after  my 


THE  PARTY  OF  THE  FIRST  PART        269 

father  came  from  Kilmarnock  to  be  head-keeper  to  the  old 
earl.  That's  why  I  call  it  home,  though  it's  no  home  of 
mine. 

"  I  left  the  last  half  of  my  name  behind  me  when  I  fled 
the  country,  long  years  ago,  at  the  time  of  Lord  St.  Just's 
death.  I  had  a  hand  in  that,  although  I  did  not  murder 
him  as  some  said.  He  had  done  me  a  foul  wrong,  the  foulest 
one  man  may  do  another.  It  cost  him  his  life,  but  —  I 
did  not  murder  him.  That  would  have  been  but  a  poor 
revenge  in  my  eyes.  I  would  fain  he  had  lived  till  this 
day." 

"  And  what  do  you  propose  to  do  now?  "  Slyne  asked, 
somewhat  impatiently.  He  had  evidently  got  over  his 
first  confusion. 

The  ex-Emir  regarded  him  meditatively  for  a  moment  or 
two,  and  then  broke  into  a  low,  mirthless  laugh. 

"  You're  going  to  marry  the  Lady  Josceline  Justice,"  said 
he,  "  and  you're  in  a  hurry.  You've  no  time  to  waste  on 
me  —  or  on  my  memories  of  old  wrongs.  Well,  I  don't 
blame  you.  I  once  had  a  fancy  for  her  myself,  and  —  I  was 
in  just  such  a  hurry;  when  my  wife  died  in  my  arms  as  we 
carried  her  out  from  my  camp,  to  suit  your  convenience, 
Captain  Dove,  and  I  hadn't  even  the  time  to  bury  my  own 
dead  wife  decently  before  I  put  off  to  your  ship  in  search  of 
—  the  other.  If  I  had  been  in  less  haste  about  it,  I'd  maybe 
have  made  better  speed. 

"  But  you've  managed  very  well  for  yourself,  so  far,  Mr. 
Slyne.  Though  you've  robbed  me  of  one  who  should  have 
been  mine,  just  as  did  Torquil  St.  Just. 

"  And  now  —  if  you'll  wait  for  a  minute  more  —  I'll  even 
matters  among  us;  and  you'll  understand  the  drift  of  my 
story  better.  You've  managed  very  well  for  yourself,  so 


270  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

far,  and  you've  very  nearly  won  all  you  wanted.    But  — 
here  I  am,  just  in  time. 

"  Did  it  ever  come  out  how  the  Countess  of  Jura,  the 
dancer  that  was,  met  her  death?  " 

Slyne,  listening  with  strained  attention  now,  nodded  swift 
assent.  Captain  Dove,  crouched  low  on  his  perch,  was 
gazing  at  Parish  M'Kissock  as  if  fascinated. 

"  She  shot  herself,"  said  the  ex-Emir,  with  the  calm  cer- 
tainty of  one  who  can  vouch  for  his  facts,  "  rather  than  fall 
into  the  hands  of  my  men.  We  had  raided  a  camp  of  fool 
tourists  who  had  come  too  far  afield,  to  find  out  what  the 
real  desert  was  like,  and  she  was  among  them.  She  saw 
me  before  she  pulled  trigger,  and  knew  me,  and  cried  on  me 
to  save  her  child. 

"  All  the  rest  were  —  wiped  out.  But  —  I  spared  the 
child,  because  —  it  had  the  Jura  blood  in  its  veins.  It  was 
the  Lady  Josceline  Justice,  and  she  grew  up  among  our 
tents  until  she  died  in  my  arms  the  same  night  I  made  my 
unlucky  bargain  with  you,  Captain  Dove;  and  I  hadn't 
even  the  time  to  bury  her  ladyship,  my  dead  wife,  decently 
before  I  put  off  to  your  ship!  " 

He  drew  a  skeleton-like  hand  across  his  sunken  eyes  and 
blinked  at  the  blazing  logs  on  the  hearth  before  him. 

"  And  now  you  know  where  the  real  Lady  Josceline  Jus- 
tice is,"  said  he. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A   NEW   IDEA 

"      A    ND  now  you  know  where  the  real  Lady  Josceline 

f-\  Justice  is,"  said  Parish  M'Kissock  drearily,  al- 
most  as  if  the  savour  of  his  overwhelming  revenge 
on  all  who  had  wronged  him  had  cloyed  already.  "  The 
girl  you  have  here  — 

"  Never  mind  about  her,"  Captain  Dove  interrupted 
hoarsely,  and  darted  a  quick,  furtive  glance  at  Slyne,  who 
looked  very  much  as  if  he  had  just  been  struck  on  the  back 
of  the  head  with  a  hammer.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it?  That's  all  we  want  to  hear  from  you." 

He  had  been  scarcely  less  overcome  by  that  most  calami- 
tous disclosure  than  was  his  unhappy  accomplice.  And  he 
did  not  doubt  for  a  moment  that  Parish  M'Kissock  was 
speaking  the  truth;  although  until  then  he  himself  had  been 
almost  convinced  that  Sallie  must  indeed  be  the  dead  Earl 
of  Jura's  daughter.  That  possibility  had  been  proven  so 
perfectly  probable  that  even  the  Court  of  Chancery  had 
accepted  it  for  a  fact.  But  now  — 

The  sudden  and  cataclysmic  collapse  of  all  his  own  pros- 
pects along  with  hers  had  spurred  Captain  Dove's  momen- 
tarily stunned  faculties  into  a  perfect  frenzy. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  "  he  demanded 
again,  imperatively,  since  the  other  was  slow  to  answer. 

"  I  need  do  nothing  more  —  to  thwart  your  fine  schemes," 


272  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

said  Parish  M'Kissock  quietly:  "for  —  they  will  fail.  Al- 
though it  matters  little  to  me  now  who  may  rule  here,  since 
the  last  of  the  old  brood  lies  dead  and  unburied  in  Africa; 
and  she  was  fond  of  me,  too,  as  I  was  of  her.  'Twas  a 
notable  revenge  that  I  took  on  them-alll  And  I  think  ye '11 
allow  that  I've  settled  old  scores  handsomely  with  the  both 
of  you  two  as  well. 

"  You  might  maybe  murder  me  yet,  to  still  my  tongue, 
as  you're  thinking,  but  that  would  end  as  ill  for  yourselves, 
and  I'm  not  here  for  long  anyhow.  There's  nothing  in  this 
world  or  the  next  that  will  avail  you  against  me  now, 
and  —  " 

His  voice  died  away,  wearily.  He  was  gazing  into  the  flick- 
ering flames,  brooding  over  his  own  desperate  memories. 

"  I  might  murder  you,  as  you  say,  and  in  self-defence 
at  that,  Parish,"  replied  Captain  Dove,  in  a  tone  that  he 
was  striving  to  make  more  friendly.  "  But  —  how  would 
it  be  if  we  went  partners  instead?  What's  the  use  of  cutting 
your  nose  off  to  spite  your  face?  There's  surely  enough  here 
for  all  of  us.  And  your  share  would  more  than  make  up  to 
you  for  —  " 

The  gaunt  wreck  in  the  arm-chair  beside  the  fire  broke 
into  a  low,  mocking  laugh. 

"  It's  to  close  my  account  with  you  that  I'm  here,  Cap- 
tain Dove,"  said  he  implacably,  "  and  not  to  open  a  new 
one." 

Captain  Dove,  his  face  distorted  with  impotent  fury, 
darted  another  devilish  look  at  Slyne,  but  Slyne  was  still 
sitting  motionless,  staring  at  the  ex-Emir,  like  one  in  a 
trance.  Captain  Dove  glanced  again  at  the  stooping  figure 
on  the  other  side  of  the  fireplace,  set  one  foot  firm  on  the 
floor,  and  leaped  at  his  enemy  like  a  wild  beast. 


A  NEW  IDEA  273 

Parish  M'Kissock  fought  fiercely,  with  a  strength  sur- 
prising in  one  of  his  enfeebled  appearance,  had  almost  suc- 
ceeded, indeed,  in  freeing  himself  from  the  old  man's  vice- 
like  grip  before  Slyne  at  last  awoke  from  his  lethargy  and, 
of  mechanical  instinct,  came  to  Captain  Dove's  assistance. 
The  two  of  them  soon  got  him  down,  and  then  Captain 
Dove  lashed  his  wrists  and  ankles  securely  with  a  strong 
fishing-line  snatched  from  a  rack  on  the  wall. 

"  This  way  with  him  now,"  he  panted,  and,  drawing 
aside  a  blind  panel  in  the  wainscot  of  the  near  wall,  dis- 
closed a  low,  wide  opening,  toward  which  he  pulled  their 
prostrate  prisoner  by  the  heels.  And  together  they  bundled 
the  groaning  body  down  a  steep  flight  of  dry  stone  steps, 
into  an  unlighted  cell  at  one  side  of  the  dark  tunnel  below. 

"  He'll  be  safe  enough  in  there,"  said  Captain  Dove  vin- 
dictively, as  he  held  up  the  match  he  had  struck  while 
Slyne,  with  fumbling  fingers,  drew  its  rusty  iron  outside 
bolt  across  the  door  of  the  cell.  "  And  it  will  be  easy  to  get 
him  down  the  tunnel  to  the  water-gate,  too." 

"  Can  anyone  get  in  by  the  water-gate?  "  asked  Slyne  in 
a  breathless  whisper. 

"  I  have  the  key  in  my  pocket,"  Captain  Dove  answered 
shortly,  and  drew  the  blind  panel  back  into  place  as  they 
regained  the  gun-room  together. 

There,  he  made  at  once  for  the  half-empty  decanter  upon 
the  table.  But  Slyne  sat  down  before  the  fire  again,  with 
bent  head,  as  if  utterly  crushed. 

It  was  self-evident  that  he  had  come  to  believe  implicitly 
in  Sallie's  right  to  the  new  identity  he  had  bestowed  upon 
her,  had  never  doubted  that  the  proofs  on  which  that  belief 
had  been  based  were  anything  but  genuine/  He  could 
scarcely  doubt  now  that  Captain  Dove  had  hoodwinked 


274  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

him  from  first  to  last,  that  Parish  M'Kissock's  story  was 
the  real  truth  of  the  matter.  And,  thus  in  a  moment  con- 
fronted with  the  ruinous  outcome  of  his  credulity,  he  could 
not  yet  bring  his  mind  to  bear  on  anything  but  the  utter 
eclipse  of  all  his  own  golden  dreams, 

"  And  so  —  that  fellow  Carthew  will  be  Earl  of  Jura,"  lie 
said  suddenly,  and  looked  up  at  Captain  Dove  with  a  hell 
of  hate  aflame  behind  his  dull  eyes.  "  And  you've  been 
lying  to  me  all  along,"  he  said,  in  a  still,  dispassionate  voice. 

Captain  Dove,  back  in  his  own  chair,  better  pleased  with 
himself,  paused  to  consider  before  replying.  He  had  been 
investigating  the  pantry  and  found  out  how  Parish  M'Kis- 
sock  had  come  there. 

"  You're  wrong,  both  times,"  he  at  length  remarked. 
"  I've  told  you  nothing  that  wasn't  the  truth.  All  I've  said 
about  Sallie,  I  can  prove  up  to  the  hilt.  And,  anyhow, 
you've  been  managing  the  whole  business.  You've  told  me 
often  enough  not  to  butt  in!  You  can't  blame  me  for  any 
mistake  that's  been  made. 

"  And,  what's  more,"  he  went  on,  marshalling  his  ideas, 
"  it  remains  to  be  proved  that  there  has  been  any  mistake. 
You're  surely  not  going  to  take  the  mere  word  of  a  fellow 
like  Parish  for  that  —  a  mutinous  second  mate  I  had  to 
maroon  to  get  rid  of  him.  Anyhow,  if  you're  going  to  lie 
down  and  die  at  his  orders,  I'm  not.  D'ye  see?  " 

Slyne  drew  a  shaky  hand  across  a  damp  forehead.  He 
was  obviously  all  unstrung. 

"  You  didn't  cast  any  doubt  on  his  story,"  he  muttered. 

"  There  was  no  need,"  declared  Captain  Dove.  "  Let 
him  disprove  yours  first.  It  was  you  who  discovered  who 
Sallie  should  be.  I  had  no  idea  whose  daughter  she  was  — 
and  neither  had  she.  You  and  Jobling  it  was  who  put  two 


A  NEW  IDEA  275 

and  two  together  and  made  out  four.  I  don't  believe  Far- 
ish  —  M'Kissock,  as  he  calls  himself  liow  —  could  better 
that." 

"Don't  you  believe  what  he  said?  "  asked  Slyne. 

"  Not  me,"  lied  Captain  Dove.  "  The  man's  mad,  that's 
what's  the  matter  with  him.  He's  probably  made  the  whole 
thing  up,  just  to  get  even  with  us,  and  knowing  that  we 
could  do  little  more  than  contradict  it.  But  —  he  didn't 
know  that  we  have  the  Chancery  Court  behind  us  now. 
And  that  makes  all  the  difference.  We've  won  —  and  he's 
lost.  D'ye  see? 

"  I  was  scared  at  first,  I'll  admit  —  when  he  walked  in. 
It  was  that  infernal  '  white  lady  '  tale  of  yours  that  upset 
me.  But  —  you  don't  believe  in  ghosts!  What's  wrong 
with  you  is  sheer  funk." 

But  even  that  insult  seemed  to  have  no  immediate  effect 
on  Slyne,  and  Captain  Dove  got  up,  growling. 

"  Here,"  said  he.  "  Drink  this  down  —  and  try  if  you 
can't  muster  even  a  little  Dutch  courage." 

Slyne  swallowed,  still  without  a  word  in  retort,  the  dose 
of  spirit  which  the  old  man  had  poured  out  for  him;  and 
that  seemed  to  restore  a  little  his  crippled  self-confidence. 
Some  faint  spark  of  hope  that  all  might  not  yet  be  lost 
seemed  to  have  sprung  up  in  his  heavy  heart.  His  be- 
numbed brain  was  apparently  beginning  to  work  again. 
He  sat  up,  with  an  effort. 

"  But  —  how  are  we  to  carry  on  here?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
tone  which  told  how  very  feeble  his  faith  was.  "  If  any 
such  story  gets  to  the  ears  of  - 

"  It  will  get  no  farther  than  it  has  gone,"  declared  Cap- 
tain Dove  with  assured  emphasis.  "  If  Parish  hasn't  told 
that  old  hag  of  a  sister  of  his  yet,  it  stays  between  you  and 


276  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

me.  We'll  make  sure  of  her  silence  —  and  his.  That  will 
be  easy  enough." 

Slyne  sank  back  into  his  chair  again,  and  scowled.  He 
did  not  affect  to  misunderstand  his  companion's  sinister 
promptings. 

"  Will  you  undertake  to  look  after  them,  then?  "  he  stipu- 
lated, with  dire  distaste,  after  further  consideration. 

Captain  Dove  in  his  turn  took  time  to  cogitate  over  that 
selfish  suggestion.  He  had  no  intention  whatever  of  help- 
ing Slyne  at  his  own  hazard.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  al- 
ready made  up  his  mind  to  get  rid  of  Slyne  at  the  same  time 
as  the  other  two.  But,  of  course,  it  was  only  politic  to  pre- 
tend a  little  reluctance. 

"  All  right,"  he  agreed  at  length.  "  I'll  look  after  them. 
But  you  must  lend  me  a  hand,  if  it's  necessary.  There's 
no  one  else  I  can  trust,  and  we're  both  in  the  same  boat 
now.  You  must  lend  me  a  hand,  if  it's  necessary." 

"  And  what  about  Carthew?  "  Slyne  demanded,  recover- 
ing himself  by  degrees  under  the  old  man's  most  matter  of 
fact  example.  "  If  he  should  get  any  inkling  — 

"Oh,  don't  make  difficulties!  "  growled  Captain  Dove. 
"  What's  to  hinder  our  settling  his  hash  the  same  way  as  the 
others?  There  are  only  the  three  of  them  in  our  way.  We'll 
make  a  clean  sweep.  We'll  get  him  up  here  —  we'll  send 
him  word  that  Sallie  would  like  to  see  him,  and  —  the  rest 
will  be  easy." 

"  But,  good  God!  "  cried  Slyne,  "  how  are  you  going  to 
account  for  their  disappearance?  It's  madness  —  " 

"  Parish  is  mad,  all  right,"  said  Captain  Dove  reflect- 
ively. "  Which  will  account  for  whatever  happens  to  him 
and  his  precious  sister.  If  they  were  both  found  with 
broken  necks  at  the  foot  of  this  infernal  rock,  who's  going 


A  NEW  IDEA  277 

to  make  us  responsible  ?  And,  as  for  that  fellow  Carthew, 
if  we  can't  explain  away  his  disappearance  we'll  deserve 
to  lose  everything,  Slyne. 

"  Damn  it,  man!  What  are  you  afraid  of!  Are  you 
going  to  throw  up  the  sponge  just  before  the  fight's  won!  " 

"  If  we  were  once  clear  of  the  three  of  them,  that  would 
leave  us  perfectly  safe,"  said  Slyne,  in  a  voice  that  was  not 
very  steady.  "  But  what  if  Mrs.  M'Kissock  knows  al- 
ready —  " 

"  We'll  ring  for  her  now  and  find  out,"  answered  Captain 
Dove  with  savage  decision.  "  If  she  seems  to  know  more 
than  she  should  —  she  can  keep  her  infernal  brother  com- 
pany until  Brasse  comes  ashore." 

He  rose,  and  had  almost  reached  the  bell-push  beside 
the  mantel  when  the  door  opened  and  the  Marquis  of  In- 
goldsby  walked  into  the  room,  looking  much  less  imbecile 
and  more  of  a  man  in  his  splashed  breeches  and  boots  and 
spurs. 

Captain  Dove  glared  at  him. 

"  Howdy  do,  Captain  Dubb,"  said  his  lordship,  politely, 
after  peering  through  his  eye-glass  at  Slyne.  "  Glad  to  see 
you  again.  Lady  Josceline  told  me  I  would  probably  find 
you  here,  and  —  I  want  to  talk  to  you  —  about  her." 

He  let  his  eyeglass  drop  and  helped  himself  to  a  brandy 
and  soda.  Slyne  was  staring  at  him.  Captain  Dove  was 
dumb. 

"  I've  just  been  askin'  her  to  marry  me,"  his  lordship  re- 
marked, after  slaking  his  thirst.  And,  as  he  paused  to  light 
a  cigarette,  "The  devil  you  have!"  exclaimed  Captain 
Dove,  considering  that  idea. 

"  She  said  she  couldn't,"  Lord  Ingoldsby  mentioned, 
straddling  across  the  hearth-rug,  his  hands  on  his  hips,  dis- 


278  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

regarding  Slyne's  presence  entirely  now.  "But  —  she 
wouldn't  tell  me  why.  And  I  thought  I'd  ask  you,  don't 
y'know.  So  far  as  I  can  understand,  you're  her  nearest 
livin'  relative  —  her  stepfather,  or  godfather,  or  some- 
thin'  of  that  sort,  what?  And  I  thought  that  maybe  you 
wouldn't  mind  talkin'  over  the  matter  with  me." 

Captain  Dove  scratched  his  head.  He  could  see  that 
Slyne  was  watching  him  very  closely.  It  had  no  doubt 
flashed  through  Slyne's  mind  as  through  his  own  that  here 
was  a  providential  by-path  of  escape,  for  him  at  least,  from 
his  present  predicament;  that,  if  all  else  went  askew,  Sallie 
might  prove  profitable  enough,  to  him  at  least,  as  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Ingoldsby.  For  had  not  Mr.  Jobling  stated  that 
the  young  man  before  the  fire  was  one  of  the  wealthiest 
peers  in  England  or  elsewhere. 

"  I  don't  want  to  over-hurry  her,  y'know,"  said  the  noble 
marquis,  "  and,  maybe,  I've  been  a  bit  sudden.  But  I've 
been  huntin'  high  and  low  for  her  ever  since  I  last  saw 
her,  and  —  here  I  am,  don't  y'know.  So  I  thought  I'd  ask 
her." 

"  Didn't  you  hear  me  tell  you  in  Monte  Carlo  that  Lady 
Josceline  is  engaged  to  marry  me?  "  Slyne  broke  in,  with  a 
sudden  access  of  anger,  since  Captain  Dove  still  seemed  to 
have  nothing  to  say. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Captain  Dove  slowly.  "  She's  engaged 
to  this  gentleman  —  on  conditions." 

Lord  Ingoldsby  screwed  his  eyeglass  into  his  face  and 
gravely  regarded  Slyne  again. 

"  But  she's  not  married  to  him  yet,"  said  he.    "  And  - 
it's  a  woman's  privilege  to  change  her  mind.    Besides,  if  her 
engagement  is  only  conditional  —  " 

"  We  needn't  discuss  it  just  now,"  Captain  Dove  put  in 


A  NEW  IDEA  279 

with  unusual  diplomacy.  He  could  see  that  Slyne  was  liable 
to  explode  dangerously  at  any  moment. 

"  All  right,  then/'  said  Lord  Ingoldsby  in  a  tone  of  great 
determination.  "  I'll  just  have  to  do  the  best  I  can  for 
myself."  And,  having  finished  his  light  refreshment,  he 
strolled  off  again,  taking  not  the  slightest  notice  of  Slyne's 
very  obvious  indignation. 

As  soon  as  he  was  safely  out  of  earshot,  Slyne  fell  foul  of 
Captain  Dove,  who  listened  patiently  enough  to  all  he  had 
to  say. 

"  But  I'm  not  interfering,"  said  the  old  man.  "  All  that 
sort  of  thing  lies  between  you  and  her,  Slyne.  If  you  can 
get  her  to  marry  you  right  away  —  " 

"  Of  course  I  can  —  if  you  back  me  up,"  Slyne  declared 
wrathfully.  "  And  you've  got  to  do  that  now,  Dove  —  for 
your  own  sake.  We're  both  in  the  same  boat,  remember,  — 
and  if  it  upsets,  we'll  both  drown.  I'll  make  quite  sure  of 
that. 

"So  —  we'll  get  hold  of  Sallie  now  before  the  thing  goes 
any  further  —  and  settle  that  question  for  good." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE 

SALLIE  had  been  far  too  happily  occupied  since  she 
had  come  to  Loquhariot  to  have  been  conscious  of  the 
wheels  within  wheels  revolving  about  her  there. 

She  could  scarcely  at  once  accustom  herself  to  look  upon 
the  great,  grey,  age-old  castle  as  her  home;  but  there  was 
Janet  M'Kissock  always  eager  to  help  her  in  that  respect, 
with  endless  stories  of  bygone  days  which  made  the  place 
seem  always  more  familiar  and  friendly  to  her.  She  grew, 
by  degrees,  to  know  and  love  it  almost  as  if  she  had  lived 
there  all  her  life. 

It  was  much  more  difficult  to  grasp  the  idea  that  the  whole 
of  the  beautiful  white  world  beyond  its  windows  was  also 
hers,  and  hers  alone;  from  the  rugged,  snow-clad  moun- 
tains towering  behind  and  on  either  hand,  even  to  the  Small 
Isles,  like  bergs  in  the  sun  amid  the  smoking  seas  in  that 
turbulent  weather.  But  Slyne  missed  no  opportunity  to 
impress  that  important  fact  upon  her.  And  she  was  finding 
it  always  easier  to  forget  her  unhappy  past,  to  enjoy  the 
marvellous  present  and  the  most  inspiriting  part  in  it,  to 
leave  the  over-difficult  future  to  evolve  itself. 

The  men  and  women  about  the  place  were  all  devoted  to 
her.  She  had  very  soon  won  the  staunch  good-will  of  the 
cottagers  at  the  cliff-foot.  And  her  soft  sway  was  every- 
where undisputed,  although  Slyne  had  at  first  been  inclined 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  281 

to  contest  it  himself.  But  he  soon  seemed  to  realise  that 
it  would  be  best,  in  the  meantime,  to  order  events  from  the 
background  and  in  her  voice. 

He  had  shown  some  disposition,  too,  to  question  the  ex- 
tent of  the  liberty  she  might  now  assume  to  herself.  But  he 
had  not  pressed  that  point  unduly  either,  and  they  con- 
tinued on  that  footing  of  pleasant  comradeship  which  he 
had  been  at  such  ceaseless  pains  to  promote.  His  deb- 
onair courtesy  to  her,  his  easy  deference  to  most  of  her 
wishes,  were  very  different  indeed  from  his  off-hand  manner 
of  former  days.  And  she  could  not  but  be  grateful  to  him, 
in  the  meantime,  for  the  almost  over-ample  fulfilment  of 
his  original  promise. 

Regarding  her  pledge  to  him,  he  had  said  nothing  more, 
although  she  spent  long  afternoons  and  evenings  in  his 
company  when  the  weather  was  at  its  worst,  while  Mr. 
Jobling  was  away.  Captain  Dove  left  the  two  of  them  very 
much  to  themselves,  and  Slyne  had  offered  to  teach  her 
to  play  billiards,  to  pass  the  time. 

She  would  have  been  entirely  content,  indeed,  but  for 
the  hardship  her  coming  had  entailed  on  Justin  Carthew. 
She  had  met  him  more  than  once  out  of  doors,  and  he  had 
always  seemed  pleased  to  see  her,  but  —  it  was  of  common 
report  that  he  was  a  poor  man,  and  she  could  not  help 
feeling  that  he  had  shown  himself  very  much  more  generous 
to  her  than  she  to  him.  She  found  comfort,  however,  in  the 
conclusion  that  circumstances  were  quite  beyond  her  con- 
trol, and  that  he  would  understand  better  by  and  by  the 
complications  through  which  she  had  had  to  find  her  way 
as  best  she  could. 

She  had  gone  down  to  the  village  on  the  afternoon  when 
the  Olive  Branch  arrived  in  the  loch,  and  she  walked  back 


282  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

as  far  as  the  castle  with  Carthew.  The  reappearance  of  that 
ill-omened  craft  had  alarmed  her  more  than  a  little,  and 
she  could  see  that  Carthew  was  becoming  always  more 
sorely  puzzled.  But  he  had  promised  her  to  await  events 
without  question  for  three  short  months;  and  he  was  keep- 
ing his  promise  loyally.  She  could  have  told  him  nothing, 
in  any  case. 

She  met  Slyne  in  the  hall,  on  her  way  indoors,  and  he 
reassured  her  as  to  her  perfect  safety  from  any  further  risk 
of  evil-doing  by  Captain  Dove.  He  pointed  out,  too,  that 
the  steamer's  crew  was  too  scanty  now  to  cope  with  the 
force  he  could  call  to  her  aid  from  the  village  in  case  the  old 
man  should  attempt  to  make  any  mischief,  which  was  most 
unlikely.  And  she  went  on  to  her  own  cosy  quarters,  quite 
content  again. 

She  was  changing  her  outdoor  dress  for  one  of  her  pretty 
Parisian  tea-gowns,  when  word  was  brought  her  that  the 
Duchess  of  Dawn  and  Lord  Ingoldsby  had  come  across  the 
mountains  to  pay  her  a  call. 

She  remembered  Lord  Ingoldsby,  and  wondered  what 
could  have  brought  him  to  Loquhariot.  The  idea  of  en- 
tertaining a  duchess  dismayed  her  a  little;  she  had  no 
notion  at  all  what  the  conventions  called  for  under  cir- 
cumstances so  unusual  in  her  own  experience  —  although 
Slyne  had  been  at  some  pains  to  explain  a  number  of 
other  conventions  to  her.  But  she  went  along  to  the  blue 
drawing-room  at  once,  and  was  relieved  to  find  Slyne 
there  before  her,  unconcernedly  chatting  with  a  very 
beautiful  young  woman  in  a  sadly  splashed  habit,  her 
back  to  the  fire,  booted  feet  a  little  apart,  hunting-crop 
in  clasped  hands,  laughter  in  her  clear  eyes;  while 
Lord  Ingoldsby,  looking  much  less  imbecile  and  more 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  283 

of  a  man  in  his  travel-soiled  riding-kit,  stood  listening 
gloomily. 

His  face  cleared  at  sight  of  Sallie,  however.  "  Here's 
Lady  Josceline,  Aunt  Jane,"  he  cried,  and  the  duchess,  after 
a  single  swift,  appraising  glance  at  her,  came  forward  with 
outstretched  hands  and  kissed  her  without  any  more  ado. 

"Oh!  my  dear,"  said  the  duchess  impulsively,  "  you 
can't  imagine  what  a  relief  you  are.  Ingoldsby  has  been 
simply  raving  about  you,  and  —  I  was  so  anxious,  don't 
you  know.  But  I  don't  blame  him  now. 

"I've  seen  you  before,  too  —  one  night  at  the  Savoy.  If 
I  had  only  known  then  who  you  were  —  But  some  one 
said  you  were  a  Miss  Harris !  You've  kept  it  all  such  a  close 
secret!  We  wouldn't  have  known  even  now  if  we  hadn't 
heard,  quite  by  chance,  that  the  beacon  had  been  lighted 
one  night.  And  we've  been  wondering  ever  since  —  So 
you  must  tell  me  all  about  everything  now,  if  you  will." 
And  she  drew  Sallie  down  beside  her  on  a  low  couch  at  one 
side  of  the  white  marble  fireplace,  leaving  the  two  men  to 
their  own  devices  while  she  went  on  to  explain  herself  no 
less  volubly. 

"  It  was  madness,  of  course,  to  cross  the  Pass  in  weather 
like  this,  but  —  Ingoldsby  would  give  me  no  peace;  and 
I've  been  so  curious  myself  to  find  out  who  could  be  here. 
I'm  your  nearest  neighbour,  you  know,  although  Castle 
Dawn  is  ten  miles  away;  those  are  worse  than  twenty  any- 
where else.  So,  when  the  rain  stopped  this  forenoon  we 
set  out  —  and  here  we  are,  covered  with  mud!  The  road's 
in  a  dreadful  state,  but  you  must  come  over  and  stay  with 
me  as  soon  as  the  bridges  are  mended.  We're  going  to  be 
great  friends.  I  knew  your  father  —  although  I'm  not 
quite  so  old  as  you  might  imagine  from  that,  for  I  wasn't 


284  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

out  of  short  petticoats  the  last  time  he  spoke  to  me.  And, 
as  for  being  the  aunt  of  that  scapegrace  there,  he's  five 
years  older  than  I  am  in  years  •• —  and  fifty  in  —  " 

"  Don't  be  too  rough  on  a  fellah,  Aunt  Jane!  "  interrupted 
her  noble  nephew,  who  had  been  regarding  Sallie  with  fixed 
vacuity  through  his  eyeglass.  "  An'  don't  you  believe  all 
you  hear  about  me,  Lady  Josceline:  I'm  not  so  black  as 
I'm  painted,  at  any  rate." 

"  He's  been  simply  raving  about  you,"  the  duchess  de- 
clared again,  in  a  laughing  whisper.  "  I  couldn't  imagine 
what  had  brought  him  down  to  Dawn  in  midwinter,  until 
he  confided  in  me  that  he  had  been  searching  the  wide  world 
for  you  ever  since  he  met  you  first:  and  he  imagined  that 
you  might,  after  all,  be  here,  at  home." 

She  had  a  great  many  questions  to  ask  Sallie  then,  ques- 
tions which  Sallie,  in  such  a  situation,  might  have  found  it 
very  difficult  to  answer  but  for  Jasper  Slyne's  sharp  ears 
and  tactful  tongue.  And  the  duchess  was  not  slow  to  under- 
stand. 

"  Of  course  you  fan't  confide  in  me  yet,"  she  declared 
laughingly.  "  But  some  day  you  must  tell  me  all  your  ad- 
ventures. Your  home-coming  after  all  these  years  will  make 
a  nine  days'  wonder  once  the  papers  get  to  hear  of  it." 

A  servant  came  in  to  light  the  lamps,  and  Slyne  sauntered 
to  a  window  before  the  curtains  were  drawn. 

"  It's  snowing  again,  Ingoldsby,"  said  he.  "  You  won't 
get  back  to  Dawn  to-night." 

The  duchess  looked  a  little  alarmed,  but  was  soon  laugh- 
ing again. 

"  All  right,"  she  agreed,  in  response  to  Sallie's  prompt 
proffer  of  hospitality.  "  I'll  be  most  happy  to  stay  over- 
night —  and  so  will  Ingoldsby,  I'm  sure." 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  285 

"  I'll  go  and  let  Mrs.  M'Kissock  know,"  Slyne  volun- 
teered. "  Will  you  look  into  the  gun-room  when  you  pass, 
Lady  Josceline?  " 

"  Is  old  Janet  still  here?  "  the  duchess  asked  as  he  left 
the  room.  "  I  must  have  a  chat  with  her.  She  and  I  used 
to  be  great  friends  before  —  when  Torquil  St.  Just  was  still 
alive  and  my  mother  would  bring  me  over  to  Loquhariot 
when  she  came  to  call  on  yours.  I  was  Jane  Gairloch  in 
those  days." 

Lord  Ingoldsby  sat  listening  very  patiently  for  a  time 
while  they  talked  to  each  other,  and  then  he  became  pos- 
sessed by  a  strangled  cough  —  to  which  the  duchess  paid 
no  attention. 

"  You  might  give  a  fellah  a  chance,  Aunt  Jane,"  he  at 
length  suggested  desperately,  and  she  rose  from  the  couch 
with  a  most  penitent  expression. 

"  Bless  my  heart,  child!  "  she  said.  "  I  had  almost  for- 
gotten —  But  —  I'll  go  and  talk  to  old  Janet  now."  And 
she  disappeared  without  other  apology. 

Sallie  looked  surprised.  But  Lord  Ingoldsby,  having 
cleared  his  throat  again,  claimed  her  attention. 

"  You've  no  idea,  Lady  Josceline,"  he  said  hurriedly, 
"  what  a  deuce  of  a  bat  I've  been  in  for  nearly  a  fortnight. 
I  was  afraid  I'd  never  find  you  again.  And,  now  that 
I've  found  you,  don't  y'know,  what  I  want  to  say  to  you 
is-  It's  very  difficult  to  express —  But  I  mean  - 
What  I'm  trying  to  tell  you  is  that  I  thought  we  might 
maybe  make  a  match  of  it.  Will  you  marry  me,  Lady 
Josceline?  " 

Sallie  looked  still  more  surprised.  But  she  was  not  slow 
in  answering  such  a  preposterous  question. 

"  I  can't,"  she  said,  concisely. 


286  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  But  why  not?  "  he  cried.  "  For  heaven's  sake!  don't 
go  so  fast.  Give  me  time  to  — 

"  Time  couldn't  make  any  difference,"  she  said,  seeing 
that  he  was  very  much  in  earnest.  "  I  can't  —  " 

"  But  —  why  not?  "  he  insisted.  "  Is  —  is  there  some 
one  else  already?  It's  not  that  fellah  I  met  in  Monte  Carlo 
with  you,  I'm  sure;  he's  such  a  rank  outsider  —  you 
couldn't  care  for  him,  I'm  sure.  And  why  not  give  me  just 
a  chance  to  show  you  - 

"  There's  nothing  I  wouldn't  do  for  you,  Lady  Josceline. 
Give  me  just  a  chance." 

"  I  can't,"  she  repeated  for  the  third  time,  and  he  stared 
at  her  as  if  in  abject  despair. 

"  Why  can't  you?  "  he  demanded  in  a  difficult,  husky 
voice. 

She  could  scarcely  answer  that  question,  a  question  which 
he  had  no  right  to  ask.  But  —  she  felt  sorry  for  him  in  his 
very  obvious  disappointment. 

"  If  you  care  to  ask  Captain  Dove,  perhaps  he  will  tell 
you,"  she  said,  unable  to  think  of  any  other  safe  way  out 
of  that  difficulty,  and  not  caring  very  much  what  Captain 
Dove  might  say. 

But  Lord  Ingoldsby  was  not  so  easily  to  be  got  rid  of. 
He  stayed  where  he  was,  arguing  and  imploring  by  turns 
until  his  youthful  aunt  appeared  again,  looking  somewhat 
serious;  she  seemed  to  take  in  the  situation  between 
them  at  a  shrewd  glance. 

He  left  the  room  then  for  a  little,  and  when  he  returned 
Sallie  and  the  duchess  were  on  the  point  of  retiring. 

"  I'm  going  to  have  a  hot  bath  and  a  rest  before  dinner, 
Ingoldsby,"  his  aunt  informed  him. 

"  Your  rooms  will  be  ready  now,  too,"  Sallie  added, 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  217 

unwilling  to  be  left  alone  there  with  him  again.  And  he 
went  off,  very  glumly,  under  convoy  of  a  servant,  toward 
the  bachelor  apartments  in  the  Warder's  Tower. 

Sallie  saw  the  duchess  settled  in  the  suite  which  had 
been  prepared  for  her,  and  having  provided  her  with  a 
plentiful  choice  of  evening  frocks,  went  on  to  the  gun-room, 
to  see  what  Slyne  wanted  with  her. 

Captain  Dove  and  he  were  seated  on  either  side  of  the 
fireplace,  and  looked  round  rather  uncertainly  as  she  came 
into  the  room. 

"I've  made  the  duchess  quite  comfortable,  Jasper,"  she 
said  with  a  smile,  "  and  she's  been  exceedingly  nice  to  me. 
I  hope  you'll  look  as  well  after  Lord  Ingoldsby." 

"  I've  told  them  to  give  him  the  run  of  my  wardrobe," 
Slyne  answered  indifferently.  "  So  he'll  be  all  right. 

"  And  —  what  I  wanted  to  say  to  you,  Sallie,  is  that  — 
I've  just  heard  —  All  my  hard  work  for  you  has  been  suc- 
cessful at  last,"  he  stammered,  in  a  changed  voice.  "  The 
claim  I  made  for  you  has  been  allowed  by  the  law.  We're 
all  going  up  to  London  to-morrow  to  get  matters  finally 
settled,  and  then  —  you'll  be  Countess  of  Jura  in  your  own 
right." 

He  paused,  effectively.  Captain  Dove  was  glancing 
from  one  to  the  other  of  them  with  judicial  gravity. 

"  So  that  you  can  keep  your  promise  to  me  now,  without 
any  further  delay,"  said  Slyne.  "  I  want  you  to  tell  the 
others  at  dinner  to-night  —  that  you've  chosen  me  for  your 
husband." 

The  happy  light  in  her  eyes  died  out  instantly.  A  faint 
frown  furrowed  her  smooth  white  forehead.  Her  curved 
lips  trembled  a  little.  The  old  unhappiness  and  dread  were 
plucking  at  her  heart  again.  But  she  did  not  shirk  the  issue. 


288  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  But  you  agreed  to  wait  —  for  three  months,  Jasper," 
she  said  in  a  low,  pleading  voice. 

"  That  was  only  in  case  it  took  so  long  to  fix  things  up 
for  you,"  he  lied  easily.  "  Our  signed  agreement  makes  that 
quite  clear,  and  it's  absolutely  binding,  you  know.  Mr. 
Jobling  will  tell  you  that  —  and  he's  a  lawyer." 

She  was  gazing  at  him  with  something  very  like  horror 
in  her  wide  eyes. 

"  Was  that  in  the  paper  I  signed?  "  she  asked  breath- 
lessly. But  her  lips  had  grown  set  and  resolute.  "  I 
thought  —  " 

"  You  must  have  misunderstood  me,  then,"  Slyne  inter- 
rupted with  assumed  impatience.  "  But  —  you  signed  it 
of  your  own  free  will,  before  responsible  witnesses.  I've 
kept  my  part  of  our  bargain;  and  now  —  you  must  keep 
yours,  or  the  law  will  make  you." 

Her  heart  was  beating  almost  painfully.  To  her,  in  her 
ignorance,  the  law  was  merely  an  instrument  of  injustice. 
She  believed  herself  to  be  bound  without  hope  of  release  by 
the  document  she  had  signed,  and  that  the  same  inexorable 
law  which  had,  only  the  other  day,  ruined  Justin  Carthew 
to  raise  her  up  in  his  place,  would  now  force  her  to  abide 
by  whatever  was  written  above  her  disastrous  signature. 
The  whole  fair  fabric  of  that  wonderful  new  world  to  which 
she  had  so  recently  gained  admittance  had  in  these  minutes 
come  tumbling  about  her  ears.  And  the  crash  of  its  falling 
palaces  left  her  helpless  and  stupefied.  She  looked  dizzily 
round  at  Captain  Dove.  But  his  features  were  quite  un- 
readable. 

"  There's  another  point,  Sallie,"  said  Slyne,  all  his  quick 
wits  at  work  again  as  he  saw  the  impression  his  words  had 
made,  determined  to  hammer  home  every  argument  that 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  289 

might  weigh  with  her  in  her  ignorance,  "  another  point 
that  I'd  never  have  mentioned  if  you  had  been  prepared  to 
deal  fairly  with  me  after  all  I've  done  for  you." 

She  shivered  at  that  further  thrust;  she,  who  had  never 
dealt  unfairly  with  either  friend  or  enemy. 

"  Even  without  your  promise,  you're  mine  —  by  right 
of  purchase.  You  were  Captain  Dove's  property  before, 
as  you  know  very  well.  He  bought  you  and  paid  for  you. 
And  he  sold  you  to  me,  to  save  you  from  a  worse  master. 

"  You  can't  say  now  that  you  didn't  know  what  was 
ahead  of  you,  for  I  told  you,  in  Genoa.  And  I  gave  you  a 
last  chance,  too,  before  we  left  Monte  Carlo,  to  draw  back 
and  go  your  own  way  with  him.  Now  you're  doubly  mine. 
Ask  him,  if  you  don't  believe  me." 

The  girl  glanced  in  agonised  appeal  at  the  old  man  sitting 
motionless  in  his  chair,  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  But  Captain 
Dove  merely  nodded,  like  some  mechanical  figure. 

Slyne  scowled,  as  if  at  an  end  of  his  patience,  and,  strid- 
ing across  to  the  door,  locked  it,  pocketing  the  key. 

"  However,"  said  he,  "  I'm  not  going  to  argue  with  you. 
I've  evidently  wasted  my  time  in  treating  you  reasonably. 
Now,  there  are  only  two  courses  open  to  you.  You  can 
come  my  way,  with  me,  or  —  " 

He  crossed  the  room  again  and  pulled  back  the  loose 
panel  in  the  wainscot,  pointed  to  the  dark  cavity  it  had 
concealed. 

"  There's  a  boat  from  the  Olive  Branch  at  the  water-gate 
at  the  end  of  this  passage.  You're  perfectly  free  to  go  back 
on  board  with  Captain  Dove,  and  —  if  you  do,  I  wish  you 
joy  of  your  choice.  I'm  maybe  not  much  of  a  catch  as  a 
husband,  but  — "  He  left  the  inference  unspoken,  sig- 
nificantly, daring  her  to  go  back  to  that  dreadful  fate  by 


290  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

hinting  at  which  he  had  once  before  forced  her  to  change 
her  mind. 

Captain  Dove  got  on  to  his  feet  with  a  puzzled  scowl. 
Slyne  had  turned  aside,  to  light  a  couple  of  candles,  as  if  in 
preparation  for  a  descent  underground. 

Captain  Dove  slowly  drew  the  back  of  one  hand  across 
his  mouth  and  from  behind  it  whispered  a  few  words  to 
Sallie.  "  Humour  him  just  now,"  he  advised  with  sup- 
pressed vehemence.  "I'll  see  you  safe." 

"  Well? "  Slyne  demanded  and  came  toward  her. 
"  Which  is  it  to  be?  Time's  up." 

His  hands  hung  open  but  tense  at  his  sides.  His  teeth 
were  set  between  parted  lips,  his  knees  bent  a  little  as  he 
braced  himself  to  spring  at  her  wrists  before  she  could  make 
any  movement  in  self-defence.  Captain  Dove  had  stepped 
up  behind  her  and  she  did  not  doubt  that,  unless  she  fell  in 
with  their  wishes,  they  meant  now  to  overpower  her  and 
carry  her  off. 

She  did  not  move  for  a  moment,  but  her  clouded  eyes 
slowly  cleared,  and  Slyne,  studying  her  features  intently, 
relaxed  his  own  strained  attitude  a  little  as  if  in  fore- 
knowledge of  final  success. 

Sallie's  expression  of  utter  despair  had  given  place  to 
one  of  resignation,  almost  of  peace.  She  had  made  up  her 
mind  to  have  done  with  the  seemingly  endless,  unequal 
struggle. 

"  Very  well,  Jasper,"  she  said  slowly  at  last,  in  a  very 
hurtful  voice.  "  You  may  tell  the  others  —  whatever  you 
like  —  at  dinner  to-night,  if  you'll  wait  till  then." 

Captain  Dove  drew  back  and  returned  to  his  chair,  as 
if  satisfied  for  the  moment.  Slyne's  dogged  glance  had 
dropped  before  the  tragedy  in  her  eyes. 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  291 

"  You  can  surely  trust  me,  Sallie,"  he  said,  "  after  all 
I've  done  for  you.  And,  listen !  I'm  not  trying  to  rush  you, 
either.  If  you'll  tell  the  others  at  dinner  to-night  just  that 
you  take  me  for  your  husband  —  I'll  wait  till  the  end  of 
the  three  months  for  our  real  wedding  in  church." 

She  could  not  quite  understand  what  he  really  wanted, 
and  looked  her  perplexity.  But  her  mind  was  made  up. 
She  meant  to  keep  any  promise  she  might  have  made  him, 
whether  in  writing  or  otherwise,  and  even  mistakenly. 

"  Will  you  let  me  go  now  ?  "  she  begged  brokenly,  and 
he  went  to  open  the  door  for  her. 

"  You'll  say  nothing  about  it  to  anyone  till  —  the  time 
comes,"  he  stipulated  before  he  would  turn  the  key,  and 
to  that  also  she  agreed  with  a  nod,  not  trusting  herself  to 
speak. 

She  was  very  thankful  that  she  met  no  one  on  her  way 
to  her  own  rooms,  for  her  eyes  were  wet.  She  had  never 
felt  so  utterly  forlorn  and  friendless  as  now.  There  was  no 
one  in  whom  she  might  safely  confide,  no  one  who  could 
help  her  safely  past  the  promise  into  which  she  had  been 
tricked,  that  promise  to  which,  she  did  not  doubt,  the  law 
would  hold  her  firmly.  And,  in  any  case,  she  could  not  have 
gone  back  on  board  the  Olive  Branch  —  to  a  fate  even  worse. 

Ambrizette  was  awaiting  her,  to  dress  her  for  dinner,  but, 
on  a  sudden  impulse,  she  sat  down  at  the  escritoire  in  her 
boudoir  to  write  a  few  hurried  lines  to  Carthew.  She 
thought  she  would  like  to  see  him  again,  before  — 

Her  letter  ready,  she  bade  Ambrizette  ring  the  bell.  It 
was  the  maid  Mairi  who  answered  it,  and,  when  Sallie 
looked  up  again,  she  saw  that  the  girl  was  silently  crying. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Mairi?  "  she  asked  in  her  gentle 
voice,  forgetting  her  own  cruel  cares  for  the  moment,  and 


292  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

at  that  the  half-hysterical  maid  broke  into  a  storm  of  unin- 
telligible explanations  in  Gaelic,  with  here  and  there  a 
broken  sentence  that  Sallie  could  understand. 

Her  heavy-hearted  mistress  rose  and  put  a  protecting 
arm  about  her. 

"  You  must  tell  me  what  the  trouble  is,"  said  Sallie 
softly,  "  and  I'll  try  to  help  you.  What  is  it  that  has  gone 
wrong?  " 

"  Ochon  —  ochon  —  ochanorie!  "  the  girl  sobbed.  "  It  is 
for  your  ladyship  —  not  for  me  —  and  I  was  not  to  tell  you, 
whatever.  But  —  it  is  not  right  at  all  that  I  must  not 
speak.  Your  ladyship  should  be  told  in  time  —  it  is  that 
the  White  Lady  has  come  to  the  castle  again  —  and  — 
there  will  be  doom  to  follow  before  daylight.  Ochon, 
ochon!  " 

Sallie  shivered  in  spite  of  herself,  as  she  recalled  the  un- 
canny legend  which  Mr.  Jobling  had  related  on  the  evening 
of  their  arrival.  She  had  scarcely  thought  of  it  since,  but 
now  — 

"  Who  has  seen  the  White  Lady,  Mairi?  "  she  asked  pa- 
tiently, and  the  girl  grew  a  little  calmer. 

"  I,  with  my  own  eyes,  your  ladyship,"  she  declared. 
"  It  was  at  a  turn  of  the  passage  not  far  from  Mistress 
M'Kissock's  room.  And  I  did  not  run  from  it,  moreover. 
I  stood  and  watched  till  it  disappeared,  for  I  was  afraid  to 
move.  And  Mistress  M'Kissock  will  say  that  it  is  all 
havers  and  nonsense,  but  I  am  sure.  For  it  was  seen  in 
the  woods  as  well,  on  the  way  to  the  hut  that  was  Lord 
St.  Just's,  and  Donuil  Mohr,  the  forester,  it  was  who  saw 
it  there." 

Sallie  sighed.  She  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  it  all, 
she  who  had  so  much  else  to  think  about.  But  she  com- 


BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE  293 

forted  the  distressed  Main,  and  presently  sent  her  off  on 
her  errand,  dry-eyed  at  last,  and  with  word  for  the  other 
servants  that  her  ladyship  was  not  in  the  least  afraid  of 
any  such  shadow  seen  in  the  dusk. 

Sallie  had  almost  forgotten  the  matter,  indeed,  before 
Ambrizette  —  much  exercised  in  her  mind  by  her  beloved 
mistress's  very  evident  and  unusual  preoccupation  —  had 
finished  brushing  out  her  beautiful  hair  and  heaped  it  about 
her  bent  head  in  a  heavy  red-gold  crown.  When  her  toilette 
was  quite  complete,  she  looked  wistfully  round  the  luxurious 
rooms  in  which  she  had  dreamed  such  happy  dreams,  and 
then  went  quietly  through,  a  tall,  slender,  white-robed 
figure  herself  in  the  firelight,  to  one  of  the  windows  that 
look  down  Loch  Jura  and  out  to  sea.  She  stopped  there, 
and  stayed  for  a  time  gazing  out  at  the  silver  sheen  of  the 
ripple  among  which  the  Small  Isles  were  set.  The  snow 
had  ceased  for  the  moment,  but  it  looked  as  if  there  were 
more  to  come. 

She  looked  directly  downward,  at  the  quiet  village  be- 
low. There  was  only  a  single  light  visible,  and  that  at  the 
inn.  It  was  suddenly  extinguished  and  Sallie  turned  away 
from  the  window. 

"  I  wonder  —  I  think  he  will  come,"  she  told  herself,  if 
a  little  doubtfully,  as  she  passed  through  her  boudoir  again 
on  her  way  to  rejoin  her  guests;  she  paused  for  an  instant 
to  throw  two  warm,  white  arms  about  Ambrizette  watch- 
ing her  as  she  went,  out  of  dog-like  eyes  with  a  world  of 
dumb  devotion  in  them. 

"  I  think  he  will  come,"  she  encouraged  herself  as  she 
entered  the  distant  drawing-room.  "  He  promised  — 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Herries!  " 

She  had  stopped,  a  little  startled,  at  sight  of  the  solitary 


294  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

figure  before  the  fire.  But  it  was  none  other  than  the  old 
factor,  a  very  cadaverous  spectacle  in  evening  clothes  much 
too  ample  for  one  so  emaciated,  who  came  forward  with  a 
hasty  apology  for  his  intrusion. 

"  I'm  quite  well  again  now,"  he  assured  her,  in  reply  to 
her  anxious  questions,  "  and  —  I  thought  I  would  risk 
taking  the  liberty  —  if  you  will  grant  me  permission  to  sit 
at  table  with  you  to-night.  I  always  had  that  privilege 
with  the  earl." 

Sallie  thought  she  knew  his  real  reason  for  being  there, 
and  it  touched  her  sore  heart  to  think  that  he  was  so  eager 
to  be  at  her  side,  sick  or  well,  while  the  strange  portent  of 
which  Main  had  told  her  was  still  impending. 

"  Do  you  really  believe  in  the  White  Lady,  Mr.  Herries?  " 
she  asked  with  a  little  laugh  that  was  half  a  sigh,  as  she  put 
her  hands  into  his  and  so  set  him  down  on  a  chair. 

"  I  couldn't  exactly  say  either  yes  or  no,"  the  old  man 
answered  with  native  caution.  "  But,  at  any  rate,  I've 
never  seen  —  any  such  nonsense  myself." 

"  I  don't,"  declared  Sallie,  with  simple  conviction,  and, 
turning  as  some  one  else  entered  the  room,  "  He  w ill 
come,"  said  she  to  herself. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   WHITE   LADY 

AS  Carthew,  at  the  brink  of  the  smooth  plateau  before 
the  hut  on  the  cliffs  looked  round  instinctively,  he 
caught  sight  of  a  tall  white  shadow  that  seemed  to 
be  moving  toward  him  through  the  gloom  among  the  tree- 
trunks.  The  evening  was  drawing  in.  He  had  thought  he 
was  quite  alone  there.  He  went  round  outside  the  hut  to 
see  what  that  stealthy  shape  might  be. 

He  heard  a  sudden  rustling  not  far  away,  and  saw  Captain 
Dove  spring  up  from  behind  a  bush  to  gaze  about  appre- 
hensively. It  flashed  across  his  mind  that  Captain  Dove 
must  have  been  dogging  him.  He  stayed  where  he  was, 
watching  the  old  man's  precipitate  flight  followed  by  the 
figure  in  cloak  and  hood,  which  had  darted  a  horrified,  dis- 
believing glance  of  recognition  at  himself  as  it  passed  but 
was  evidently  too  intent  on  its  pursuit  to  pause. 

Carthew  had  recognised  it  too,  although  it  passed  his 
understanding  altogether  to  conceive  how  his  own  old 
enemy  could  have  come  to  Loquhariot.  He  was,  indeed, 
so  taken  aback  at  sight  of  the  Emir  El  Parish  there,  and  in 
such  a  state,  that  it  was  some  minutes  later  before  he  had 
recovered  his  wits  sufficiently  to  follow  the  trail  of  the 
strange  chase  he  had  witnessed. 

He  was  too  late  then,  and  it  was  already  dark.  But  L* 
ranged  the  woods  for  some  time  before  he  would  give  up 


296  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

his  anxious  quest.  He  felt  very  much  inclined  to  call  at 
the  castle  and  come  to  some  understanding  with  Captain 
Dove.  But  —  his  promise  to  Sallie  prevented  him.  He 
must  keep  that  at  all  costs.  Until  the  three  months'  grace 
she  had  begged  should  be  up,  he  must  continue  to  possess 
his  soul  in  patience  —  or  otherwise. 

But  now  —  that  would  be  even  more  difficult  than  it 
had  lately  become.  For,  until  now,  he  had  quietly  acqui- 
esced in  all  that  had  happened  because  he  could  not  help 
either  her  or  himself.  But  now  —  the  proof  he  had  lacked 
could  be  obtained  —  from  El  Parish ;  proof  that  Sallie  was 
usurping  a  dead  woman's  name  and  place. 

He  walked  down  the  hill  to  the  inn  with  his  chin  on  his 
chest,  wondering  what  the  upshot  would  be  if  he  should  take 
Sallie  herself  into  his  confidence.  But  he  was  afraid  to  do 
that.  He  felt  almost  sure  that,  if  she  found  out  from  him 
how  she  herself  had  been  imposed  upon,  he  might  forthwith 
give  up  his  dearest  hope. 

On  the  little  green  board  in  the  hallway  of  the  Jura  Arms, 
he  found  two  letters  awaiting  him.  The  steamer  which  had 
arrived  that  afternoon  had  evidently  brought  a  belated 
mail.  He  noticed  incuriously  that  his  two  correspondents 
were  Messrs.  Bolder  &  Bolder,  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
London,  W.  C.,  and  the  Western  lawyer  who  had  arranged 
the  mortgage  of  his  ranch.  Then  he  laid  the  letters  aside 
and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  his  truckle-bed  with  a 
pipe.  ^ 

A  little  later  the  maid-of-all-work  knocked  at  his  door 
with  a  note  from  the  castle.  He  opened  it  and  read  it  at 
once.  Then  he  called  after  her  to  order  a  conveyance  for 
him,  and  began  to  hunt  out  his  evening  clothes  in  a  hurry. 
He  had  only  half  an  hour  in  which  to  change  and  get  to  the 


THE  WHITE  LADY  297 

castle  again.    He  was  going  to  dine  there,  with  Sallie  — 
who  signed  her  name  as  Josceline  Justice. 

All  the  previous  timid  invitations  which  she  had  extended 
to  him  when  he  had  chanced  to  meet  her  out  of  doors  he  had 
refused.  But  to-night  he  felt  that  it  might  be  unwise  to 
absent  himself  —  some  premonition  of  trouble  impending 
caused  him  to  frown  at  himself  in  his  glass  as  he  hastily 
patted  a  white  tie  into  its  place. 

He  paused  to  open  his  mail  before  leaving  his  room.  The 
first  letter  briefly  begged  to  inform  him  that  the  mortgage 
on  his  ranch  had  not  been  met  on  the  due  date  and,  failing 
an  immediate  remittance,  must  be  called  in  with  all  costs. 
The  second  told  him  no  less  concisely  that  Sallie's  claim  to 
his  title  and  inheritance  had,  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
been  recognised  and  admitted  as  valid  by  the  Court  of 
Chancery,  expressed  Messrs.  Bolder  &  Bolder's  polite  re- 
grets over  the  disappointment  which  that  could  not  but 
occasion  him,  and  served  to  enclose  a  small  account  of  theirs 
against  him,  still  outstanding.  He  put  them  both  in  the 
fire  and  hurried  downstairs. 

He  was  a  little  late  in  reaching  the  castle,  but  found  the 
company  still  in  the  drawing-room;  and,  as  Sallie  came 
forward  to  greet  him,  a  little  look  of  belated  contentment 
crept  into  her  tired  eyes. 

"I'm  glad  you  were  able  to  come,"  was  all  she  said  in 
answer  to  his  apologies,  and  turned  to  present  him  to  the 
Duchess  of  Dawn,  with  whom  Slyne  was  chatting,  two  very 
aristocratic  figures,  the  young  duchess  a  ravishing  picture 
in  one  of  Sallie's  Parisian  gowns,  Slyne  elegant  as  always 
in  evening  clothes. 

Lord  Ingoldsby,  less  perfectly  fitted  and  with  more  than 
one  crease  in  his  white  waistcoat,  nodded  indifferently  to 


298  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

Carthew  and  intercepted  Sallie  as  she  introduced  the  young 
American  to  him.  So  Carthew  turned  to  congratulate  Mr. 
Herries  on  his  recovery.  Captain  Dove  and  Mr.  Jobling 
had  carefully  avoided  his  eyes.  That  had  been  a  somewhat 
awkward  moment  for  all  of  them,  and  Carthew,  although  his 
own  conscience  was  clear  as  regarded  the  other  men,  was 
glad  that  dinner  was  promptly  announced. 

That  was  the  first  time  he  had  seen  the  banquet-hall 
under  such  conditions,  and  he  blinked  at  the  vista  dis- 
played as  the  big  double  doors  were  drawn  apart. 

The  dinner-table  in  the  distance  was  ablaze  under  its 
branching  candelabra,  in  each  of  which  were  burning  num- 
berless wicks  under  vsilken  shades.  The  silver  girandoles 
above  the  butler's  buffet  beyond  it  were  no  less  dazzling, 
while  everywhere  else  a  warm  dusk  deepened  into  almost 
absolute  darkness  wherever  the  glow  from  the  still  log-fires 
could  not  penetrate. 

The  table  appointments  seemed  to  be  the  most  splendid 
the  castle  could  boast.  Carthew  could  catch  the  dull  glint 
of  gold  plate  on  the  buffet.  Eight  heavy,  high-backed  chairs 
of  black  carved  oak  were  set  about  the  white  oasis  that  the 
table  made  on  the  dark  floor.  Behind  each  stood  a  silent 
footman,  tartan-kilted,  tanned  of  face  above  a  spacious 
white  shirt-front  which  showed  off  an  old-fashioned  doublet 
handsomely. 

Slyne  was  leading  the  Duchess  of  Dawn  to  her  seat.  Lord 
Ingoldsby  had  Sallie  upon  his  arm:  and  Mr.  Jobling  hov- 
ered close  at  her  other  shoulder.  She  sat  down  between 
them,  with  his  sullen  lordship  on  her  right  facing  the  effu- 
sive lawyer.  And  Carthew,  following,  noticed  that  she 
looked  round  once  or  twice  in  his  own  direction.  Captain 
Dove,  a  queer-looking  figure,  had  seated  himself  at  Slyne's 


THE  WHITE  LADY  299* 

side,  opposite  the  duchess,  and  Herries  took  the  chair  be- 
tween him  and  Lord  Ingoldsby,  leaving  Carthew  next  the 
duchess. 

The  piper  made  his  appearance  according  to  the  time- 
honoured  tradition,  and  marched  twice  round  the  table 
while  the  oaken  rafters  overhead  rang  to  the  dirl  of  the  dance 
he  drew  from  his  chanter.  It  was  undoubtedly  a  picturesque 
if  somewhat  deafening  preliminary  to  dinner,  thought 
Carthew,  looking  on  much  interested  at  the  ceremonial 
which  should  have  been  his  prerogative  instead  of  Sallie's. 
And,  as  the  man  withdrew  to  the  inner  corridor,  Carthew 
encountered  Captain  Dove's  furtive  glance. 

But  it  fell  instantly,  and  the  old  man  went  on  contem- 
platively crumbling  the  roll  before  him.  He  seemed  to  be 
in  a  somewhat  somnolent  mood.  It  occurred  to  Carthew 
that  he  must  have  been  drinking  a  good  deal  before  dinner. 

A  brisk  conversation  had  been  begun  at  Sallie's  end  of  the 
table,  where  Mr.  Jobling  and  Lord  Ingoldsby  were  both 
talking  to  her  at  once.  Slyne  was  entertaining  the  duchess. 
Carthew  exchanged  a  casual  remark  or  two  across  the  table 
with  Herries  and  then  was  drawn  into  a  laughing  discussion 
with  the  duchess,  in  which  Slyne  also  took  part,  suave  but 
by  no  means  friendly  toward  Carthew.  And  so  course  of 
the  stately  dinner  succeeded  course. 

More  than  once,  Carthew  wished  that  it  were  well  over. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  in  the  air  that  affected  his 
nerves  unpleasantly.  His  eyes  were  always  meeting  Sallie's 
—  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  was  costing  her  also  no  little 
effort  to  maintain  any  interest  in  the  trivialities  of  the 
table. 

He  felt  sure  that  both  Captain  Dove  and  Slyne  had  some 
secret  on  their  minds.  But  whether  that  affected  her  and 


300  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

him  he  had  no  means  of  finding  out.  The  coming  of  El 
Parish  had  further  complicated  a  situation  already  compli- 
cated almost  beyond  his  mental  powers.  He  felt  quite 
impotent  to  cope  with  it,  under  the  added  handicap  of  his 
promise  to  Sallie.  He  felt  as  though  his  promise  in  some 
sense  made  him  a  party  to  the  unspeakably  cruel  deception 
which  must  have  been  practised  on  her,  and  that  she  might 
perhaps  be  justified  in  blaming  him  when  she  should  find 
out  —  as  she  surely  must  —  that  her  presence  there  was 
no  more  than  part  of  a  fraudulent  masquerade.  He  was 
afraid  to  think  how  she  might  deal  with  him  on  that  score 
when  he  should  offer  her,  as  he  intended  to  do  whenever 
he  should  find  himself  free  to  speak,  himself  —  and  his  earl- 
dom, for  what  that  was  worth. 

It  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  find  out  some- 
thing concerning  El  Parish  from  Captain  Dove.  All  the 
others  but  Herries  and  he  were  busy.  Carthew  spoke  to 
Herries  across  the  table. 

"  I  had  a  queer  adventure  this  afternoon,"  he  said,  "  at 
the  hut  on  the  cliffs  near  the  head  of  the  loch." 

The  old  factor  nodded.  "  That  was  Lord  St.  Just's  work- 
shop, Mr.  Carthew,"  he  mentioned. 

"  Well,  I  went  up  there  to  see  how  the  timber  had  stood 
the  storm,  as  you  told  me.  And,  just  before  turning  into 
the  woods,  I  took  a  notion  to  see  what  was  over  the  edge  — 
it  seemed  to  me  that  a  good  stout  railing  was  badly  wanted 
there." 

Herries  nodded  again.  "  That's  so,"  he  assented,  lower- 
ing his  voice.  "  It's  a  very  dangerous  spot.  That  was 
where  Lord  St.  Just  lost  his  life.  But  now  —  no  one  ever 
goes  near  the  hut." 

Carthew  glanced  at  Cfeptain  Dove.    But  the  old  man's 


THE  WHITE  LADY  301 

eyes  were  quite  unreadable  behind  his  smoked  glasses.  He 
was  listening  indifferently. 

"  I  can't  imagine,"  Carthew  went  on,  "  what  it  was  that 
suddenly  made  me  look  round,  but  I  did.  And  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  most  uncanny  figure  watching  me  from  among 
the  undergrowth  about  the  trees  behind.  It  was  all  in 
white,  with  a  hood  pulled  over  its  head." 

A  lull  in  the  conversation  elsewhere  left  only  his  voice 
audible.  The  attention  of  the  others  had  been  attracted, 
and  even  the  soft-footed  servants  seemed  to  be  hanging 
upon  his  words.  Sallie  looked  surprised,  puzzled,  even  a 
little  afraid.  Captain  Dove's  features  spoke  a  gnawing 
anxiety  now.  Slyne's  close-set,  unfriendly  eyes  were  fixed 
intently  upon  him. 

"  That  gave  me  a  cold  scare,"  Carthew  continued,  almost 
inclined  to  wish  that  he  had  not  mentioned  the  matter  at 
all.  "  I'm  not  quite  acclimatised  yet  to  such  apparitions. 
So  I  dodged  behind  the  hut  for  shelter  and  to  get  a  better 
look  at  it.  But  it  made  off  again,  almost  immediately,  in 
the  direction  of  the  castle. 

"  I  chased  after  it  in  a  minute  or  two  —  but  I  was  too  late. 
It  had  disappeared.  And  I've  been  wondering  ever  since, 
who  and  what  it  could  have  been,"  he  finished,  his 
eyes,  meeting  Captain  Dove's,  expressing  only  innocent 
inquiry. 

The  footman  behind  him  dropped  a  plate,  and  the  crash 
that  produced  startled  every  one  more  than  it  need  have. 
An  atmosphere  of  strained  expectancy  and  unrest  seemed 
to  pervade  the  shadowy  banquet-hall.  Even  Lord  In- 
goldsby,  who  had  been  regarding  Carthew  with  sulky  ill- 
will,  could  not  but  notice  it. 

"  Isn't  there  a  tame  ghost  of  some  sort  about  Loqu- 


302  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

hariot?  "  he  asked  Sallie,  and,  catching  the  duchess's  eye, 
shrank  into  himself  again  under  the  glance  she  darted  at 
him. 

"  Not  another  word  about  wraiths  and  spectres!  "  his 
youthful  aunt  ordered  briskly.  "  We  don't  want  our  dinner 
spoiled  with  any  such  nonsense.  The  White  Lady  isn't  a 
subject  for  table-talk,  Ingoldsby.  We've  a  skeleton  in  the 
cupboard  at  Dawn,  too,  you  know,  as  every  respectable 
Highland  family  has.  But  I  fancy  that  what  Mr.  Carthew 
really  saw  to-day  was  simply  some  snow-laden  bush." 

"  Dawn  must  be  a  very  beautiful  old  place,"  Slyne  re- 
marked to  the  duchess,  and  Lord  Ingoldsby  turned  toward 
Sallie  again;  as  did  Mr.  Jobling  after  a  glance  of  extreme 
disfavour  at  Carthew,  on  his  other  hand.  And  Carthew 
could  not  at  all  understand  the  general  gravity,  until  Her- 
ries  whispered  over  to  him,  under  cover  of  the  renewed  con- 
versation, "  You  haven't  heard  of  our  White  Lady  here, 
yet,  Mr.  Carthew.  But  she  brings  dule  to  the  house,  and 
—  they  say  it  was  her  that  was  seen  in  the  woods  this  after- 
noon." 

Carthew  nodded.  He  had  heard  nothing  of  any  such 
superstition,  but  knew  enough  already  of  the  natives  of 
those  wilds  to  understand  how  they  would  cling  to  it.  He 
thought  for  a  moment  of  telling  Herries  that  it  was  a  man 
and  no  woman  whom  he  had  seen,  but  that  would  perhaps 
have  disclosed  too  much  to  Captain  Dove,  and  he  decided 
to  keep  his  own  counsel  until  he  could  obtain  some  safer 
clue  to  all  those  mysteries. 

Some  movement  in  the  little  gallery  above  the  buffet 
caught  his  attention,  and  he  thought  he  could  see  the  old 
housekeeper,  Mrs.  M'Kissock,  at  the  balustrade  with  Am- 
brizette,  Sallie's  black  maid,  all  eyes,  looking  down  at  the 


THE  WHITE  LADY  303 

gathering.  And  the  smile  Sallie  flashed  at  him  as  he  looked 
at  her  told  him  she  also  knew  that  they  were  there. 

Slyne  grew  somewhat  distrait  and  restless  as  the  long 
dinner  ran  its  course,  and  Carthew  had  to  devote  more 
attention  to  the  duchess.  Among  the  rest  of  the  company 
all  seemed  to  be  going  well.  Mr.  Jobling  and  Lord  In- 
goldsby  were  both  growing  always  more  garrulous,  and  even 
Captain  Dove  had  brightened  up  under  the  sunny  influ- 
ence of  the  rare  vintages  dispensed  by  the  butler;  he  had 
got  to  the  length  of  discussing  the  lights  on  that  coast  with 
Herries,  the  factor,  before  the  pop  of  a  cork  at  the  buffet 
served  to  announce  that  the  champagne  was  coming  next. 

Slyne  was  obviously  about  to  claim  the  attention  of  the 
table.  Carthew  supposed  he  must  be  going  to  propose 
some  toast,  and  wondered  whether  he  did  not  know  any 
better  than  that.  But  he  waited  till  every  glass  was  filled 
before  he  made  any  move,  and  when  Sallie  would  have  re- 
fused the  wine  he  sent  the  butler  back  to  her  with  a  whis- 
pered message.  At  which,  Carthew  observed,  a  sudden 
pallor  overspread  her  face;  he  was  watching  her  very 
closely. 

The  rest  of  the  company  and  the  servants  also  looked 
round  at  Slyne  in  surprise  as  he  rose,  but  Carthew  did  not. 
He  had  seen  Sallie  lift  a  filmy,  lace-edged  handkerchief  from 
her  lap  —  and  caught  sight  of  something  that  it  was  meant 
to  conceal.  She  raised  a  clenched  hand  above  the  wine- 
glass before  her,  and  Carthew  could  have  sworn  that  he 
saw  some  colourless  drops  splash  down  on  the  bubbling 
champagne.  Then  she  slipped  her  handkerchief  out  of 
sight  again,  and  sat  with  bent  head,  idly  twirling  the  stem 
of  the  wine-glass  between  her  fingers,  watching  the  white 
froth  break  at  its  brim. 


304  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

And  still  Slyne  said  nothing.  Carthew  scarcely  dared 
to  glance  up  at  him  till  he  saw  that  Sallie  was  gazing  that 
way  with  wonder  and  fear  in  her  eyes. 

Slyne  was  standing  rigid.  The  glass  he  had  lifted  was 
tilting  over,  its  contents  dripping  out  on  the  table-cloth. 
His  mouth  was  open,  as  if  to  speak,  and  his  lips  were  mov- 
ing but  emitted  no  sound.  He  was  staring  fixedly  into  an 
obscure  corner  under  the  musicians'  gallery,  where  was  the 
service-doorway  from  which  the  piper  always  appeared. 

The  others  had  turned  their  eyes  in  the  same  direction. 
The  very  servants  seemed  to  have  lost  all  self-control,  stood 
stricken,  gasping,  helpless.  And  no  one  even  breathed  as  a 
shadowy  figure  came  slowly  shambling  out  of  the  dusk  into 
the  crimson  light  of  the  fire. 

It  halted,  irresolute,  a  lean,  stooping,  bald-headed  figure, 
with  a  haggard,  foolish  face  contorted  to  hold  a  single  eye- 
glass in  place.  On  its  forehead  was  a  red  smudge,  as  of  iron- 
rust.  It  was  wearing  a  disreputable,  greasy  blue  uniform 
with  not  a  few  ragged  rents  in  it.  Its  boots  were  equally 
shapeless  and  one  was  burst.  There  was  snow  on  them. 

Captain  Dove  was  the  first  among  the  company  to  recover 
the  power  of  speech. 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  want  here,  Brasse!  "  he  cried, 
in  a  choking  voice,  which  yet  was  charged  with  relief  as  if 
from  some  paralysing  fear. 

But  before  the  engineer  could  answer  a  word,  Herries, 
the  old  factor,  had  risen  shakily  from  his  seat  and  shuffled 
across  the  floor  toward  him,  was  peering  stupidly  into  his 
face,  looking  him  up  and  down  with  eyes  that  were  almost 
blind.  The  duchess  had  got  up  too.  Slyne  had  sunk  into  his 
chair  again,  scowling  blackly,  pulling  at  his  moustache. 
Lord  Ingoldsby  and  Carthew  and  Mr.  Jobling  were  still 


THE  WHITE  LADY  305 

gazing  blankly  at  the  intruder.  Sallie  sat  motionless,  with 
one  hand  always  at  the  stem  of  her  wine-glass. 

The  duchess  lifted  the  shade  off  one  of  the  lights  on  the 
candelabra  and  looked  still  more  searchingly  at  the  en- 
gineer. 

"  Torquil  St.  Just!  "  she  whispered  at  length,  and  "  Lord 
St.  Just!  "  cried  Herries  at  the  same  moment. 

The  scarecrow  with  the  eyeglass  held  out  a  slack  hand  to 
the  old  factor.  "  Hullo,  Herries,"  he  remarked,  in  a  husky 
voice,  "  I  didn't  recognise  you  at  first.  You've  aged  a  lot." 
And,  glancing  across  at  the  duchess,  "  Isn't  that  Lady  Jane 
Gairloch,  Herries?  "  he  asked  in  an  audible  aside.  "  She 
was  only  a  slip  of  a  girl,  you  know,  old  chap,  when  —  I  left 
home." 

"She's  the  —  Duchess  —  of  Dawn,  now,  —  my  lord," 
answered  Herries,  the  factor,  helplessly.  "  And  —  you're 
Earl  of  Jura  —  now." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

A   MATTER  OF   LIFE   AND  DEATH 

WHEN  the  chief  engineer  of  the  Olive  Branch  at  last 
put  off  from  the  ship  for  the  shore  in  response  to 
Captain  Dove's  second  and  still  more  peremptory 
message,  he  took  the  tiller  of  the  boat  himself,  and  steered 
straight  for  the  water-gate  of  the  castle.     In  one  of  his 
pockets  he  had  a  rusty  key  which  presently  served  to  turn 
its  creaking  lock. 

He  had  left  his  coat  in  the  boat  and  ordered  the  boat's 
crew  to  await  his  return.  And  he  made  his  way  with  accus- 
tomed steps,  almost  noiselessly  in  his  rubber-soled  shoes, 
up  the  sloping  underground  passage  which  leads  from  the 
long-disused  water-gate  toward  the  gun-room  which  long 
ago  was  the  armoury  of  the  castle. 

Once  he  halted  to  strike  amatch.  Its  feeble  light  showed 
him  the  rough  rock  walls  and  roof  of  the  tunnel,  the  uneven 
slope  underfoot  worn  almost  smooth  by  nefarious  traffic 
long  since  at  an  end. 

He  advanced  again,  cautiously,  till  he  came  to  the  brink 
of  a  broad,  gaping  chasm,  which,  but  for  a  couple  of  care- 
lessly carpentered  fir-trunks  stretching  across  it,  would 
have  closed  that  pathway  effectually  against  him  or  any- 
one attempting  to  enter  the  castle  by  stealth,  as  he  was 
doing. 

He  tested  that  makeshift  bridge  as  well  as  he  might  be- 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH    307 

fore  crossing  it.  Half-way  over,  a  cold,  damp  breath  from 
the  depths  beneath  blew  out  another  match  he  had  struck 
as  he  started.  A  muted  gurgle  and  squatter  that  came 
uncannily  to  his  ears  told  of  the  subterranean  tide  crawling 
in  to  cleanse  again  the  far  floor  of  the  pit  below  which  had 
so  often  in  the  past  served  for  a  charnel-house.  Creeping 
over  the  tree-trunks,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  that 
thought  passed  through  his  mind,  and  drew  a  breath  of 
relief  as  he  stepped  on  to  the  solid  rock  on  the  other  side. 

From  there,  the  way  to  the  steps  at  the  gun-room  en- 
trance was  clear  and  the  old  iron  gates  above  and  below 
were  both  wide,  as  he  discovered  by  sense  of  touch.  He 
set  an  ear  to  the  panel  beyond,  to  find  out  whether  the 
gun-room  was  occupied,  and  heard  only  a  long-drawn  groan. 
That  seemed  to  come  from  somewhere  behind  him.  He 
descended  the  steps  again,  listening  intently. 

Another  safety-match  sputtered  and  broke  into  a  blue 
light  in  his  tremulous  fingers.  He  saw  that  the  tolt  on  the 
outside  of  the  cell  door  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  was  shot  and 
judged  that  there  must  be  some  one  within.  For  a  moment, 
he  hesitated;  and  then  he  pulled  the  bolt  free. 

"  Who's  there?  "  he  asked  of  the  darkness  that  gave  him 
back  only  another  low  groan  for  answer. 

The  heavy  hinges  of  the  door  creaked  as  he  thrust  it  open 
and  entered.  His  last  match  showed  him  a  huddled  white 
heap  in  one  corner,  two  hands  tied  behind  it,  a  grey-haired 
and  bleeding  head.  He  turned  back  and  pushed  up  into 
the  gun-room  without  more  ado.  It  was  empty. 

He  looked  dazedly  about  him  in  the  bright  lamplight, 
and  his  eyes  fell  on  a  couple  of  candlesticks.  He  picked 
one  up  and  found  a  full  box  of  matches  beside  it.  From 
the  decanter  on  the  table  before  the  fire  he  partly  filled  a 


308  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

glass,  and  disappeared  down  the  steps  again  with  his  candle 
to  show  him  the  way,  drawing  the  panel  back  into  place 
behind  him. 

Within  the  cell  door  he  set  down  the  glass  he  was  carry- 
ing and,  pulling  out  a  pocket-knife,  cut  through  the  cord 
which  secured  the  wrists  of  the  prone  figure  in  the  corner. 
Its  hands  fell  limply  apart  and  lay  palms  upward.  He  did 
not  at  once  release  its  ankles,  but,  stooping  over  it,  pulled 
it  round  on  to  its  back  —  and  sprang  away  from  it  in  such 
frantic  haste  that  the  candle  jumped  from  its  holder  and 
left  him  in  darkness  again. 

He  all  but  brained  himself  as  he  rushed  for  the  door,  but 
he  got  outside  and,  stunned  as  he  was,  set  his  shoulder  to 
it.  It  closed  with  a  clang  and,  as  he  shot  the  bolt  home,  he 
sank  to  his  knees,  breathing  brokenly,  his  forehead  on  its 
rusty  iron.  He  righted  himself  with  an  effort,  but  stayed 
where  he  was,  sitting  huddled  together  against  the  rock 
wall,  his  face  damp  with  cold  perspiration.  He  was  blind 
in  the  blackness  about  him  and  could  hear  nothing  but  the 
trip-hammer  beat  of  his  own  strained  heart. 

Its  turbulence  began  to  die  down  by  degrees  and  in  time 
he  regained  some  command  of  his  stupefied  faculties. 

"  It  couldn't  possibly  be,"  he  kept  on  assuring  himself. 
"  I  must  have  been  mistaken.  It  couldn't  possibly  - 

He  pulled  his  slack  limbs  up  under  him,  and  rose,  slowly, 
forcing  them  to  obey  him. 

"  But  I  must  make  sure,"  he  muttered,  and  still  let  him- 
self linger  outside  the  cell  door,  to  listen  for  any  sound  from 
within. 

A  groan,  fainter  than  the  first  he  had  heard,  encouraged 
him 

"  Pretty  far  through,  whoever  he  is,"  said  he  to  himself, 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH    309 

and  with  another  effort  of  will-power  once  more  pulled  back 
the  bolt. 

The  fresh  match  he  struck,  before  going  further,  showed 
him  that  the  man  inside  had  not  moved,  and  he  found  his 
candle  where  it  had  fallen,  in  tune  to  light  it  before  his 
match  burned  out.  With  it  in  one  hand  he  went  forward 
on  tiptoe,  to  study  the  other's  features  intently,  his  own 
expressing  fear,  absolute  disbelief,  doubt,  a  growing  con- 
viction in  turn. 

"  It  is  M'Kissock!  "  he  cried  finally,  and  at  the  words 
unconsciously  uttered,  the  other's  eyelids  began  to  flicker 
in  the  candle-light  until  at  length  they  opened  and  remained 
open  at  their  widest.  And  for  a  long  time  they  two  stayed 
thus,  regarding  each  other  as  if  bereft  of  power  of  move- 
ment or  speech. 

Then  Parish  M'Kissock's  slack  jaws  took  to  twitching 
convulsively.  A  low  moaning  broke  from  his  mouth.  A 
film  came  over  his  dreadfully  staring  eyes.  He  would  have 
fallen  unconscious  again  had  not  the  engineer  snatched  up 
the  glass  at  one  side  and  poured  down  his  throat  a  few  drops 
of  the  spirit  it  held.  His  teeth  closed  with  a  snap  and  he 
groaned  again,  heartrendingly;  but,  in  a  little,  he  had  so 
far  benefited  by  that  hurtful  remedy  as  to  recover  the  use 
of  his  voice.  His  lips  moved  and  his  rescuer  leaned  forward 
to  catch  the  hoarse,  agonised  whisper  that  came  from  them. 

"  You  were  always  —  a  cruel  devil,  Lord  St.  Just," 
gasped  Farish  M'Kissock,  "  even  when  you  were  alive. 
It  should  be  my  right  —  to  torment  you  now,  and  not  — 
you  me!  " 

The  engineer  drew  back  a  little.  He  knew  then  that  he 
had  not  been  mistaken. 

"  You're  not  dead  yet,  M'Kissock,"  said  he  soothingly, 


310  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

in  his  voice  of  a  gentleman,  "  although  —  I'll  be  damned  if 
I  can  understand  how  that  is!  "  And  then,  suddenly  real- 
ising a  little  of  all  it  must  mean  to  him  that  his  old  enemy 
was  still  living,  "  If  I  had  only  known  —  "he  murmured 
with  exceeding  bitterness.  "  Oh,  my  God!  Think  of  all 
those  awful  years!  " 

Parish  M'Kissock  attempted  to  laugh,  with  a  very  hor- 
rid effect.  He  raised  a  trembling  hand  to  his  head,  and 
looked  at  its  fingers,  all  smeared  with  red.  His  rolling  eyes 
tried  to  pierce  the  obscurity  of  the  vault  in  which  he  was 
lying.  Remembrance  of  the  more  immediate  past  began 
to  stir  in  his  mind.  He  drew  a  long,  deep,  painful  breath. 

"  I  thought  —  I  thought  -  "he  mumbled  brokenly,  and 
his  eyes  closed.  He  was  once  more  insensible. 

The  engineer  of  the  Olive  Branch  looked  round  for  the 
candlestick  he  had  dropped,  and,  finding  that,  made  his 
light  safe.  Then  he  kneeled  down  beside  the  other  and 
raised  his  head  and  lifted  him  so  that  his  shoulders  should 
rest  on  the  rock  behind.  Another  teaspoonful  of  the  stimu- 
lant in  the  glass  flogged  his  patient's  flagging  heart  into 
further  effort,  and  Parish  M'Kissock  opened  his  eyes  again. 

"  Loose  my  feet,"  he  begged  brokenly,  and  the  engineer 
did  so:  but  he  lay  still  where  he  was,  too  weak  to  move. 
For  a  time,  the  only  sound  to  be  heard  was  his  hurtful,  ir- 
regular breathing.  Then  he  glanced  curiously,  for  the  first 
time,  at  his  rescuer's  threadbare  blue  uniform. 

"  You're  just  in  time,  Lord  St.  Just,"  said  he,  his  voice 
clearer  and  his  ideas  beginning  to  gain  some  coherent  shape. 
"  Though  that's  not  the  name  I  should  be  calling  you  now, 
since  you're  still  living  in  spite  of  me,  and  Earl  of  Jura  by 
all  the  laws  of  the  land. 

"  But  —  where    have   you    come    from    so    late-along? 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH        311 

Where  have  you  been  since  —  They  hold  it  against  me 
here  to  this  day  that  I  murdered  your  lordship;  and  — 
there  was  your  body  found  later  on  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs 
in  front  of  your  hut." 

The  other  sat  down  by  the  doorway,  with  a  limp  shrug 
of  the  shoulders  that  spoke  a  weariness  beyond  words. 

"  I  didn't  fall  very  far,  M'Kissock,"  he  answered  pres- 
ently. "  And  —  I  thought  you  must  have  slipped  over  too 
as  we  fought  there  —  for  I  saw  a  body  sunk  among  the 
rocks  in  the  water  below;  it  was  a  still  day,  you  remember. 
But  —  where  were  you?  " 

"  I  took  to  my  heels  through  the  woods,  thinking  it  would 
go  ill  with  me  when  what  I  believed  had  happened  to  you 
came  out;  for  it  was  known  that  I  had  gone  to  your  hut 
to  seek  you,  and  why."  His  voice  grew  very  hard,  and  he 
shot  a  glance  of  unquenchable  hatred  at  his  companion. 
"  So  I  lay  hid  in  the  hills  till  nightfall,  and  then  fled  the 
countryside.  I  heard  afterwards  that  they  had  found  your 
body,  although  it  was  scarcely  more  than  a  rickle  of  bare 
bones  by  then,  and  of  course  they  put  the  blame  of  it  all 
on  me  without  more  ado." 

The  engineer  of  the  Olive  Branch  who  was  also  the  Earl 
of  Jura  sighed  drearily.  The  best  years  of  his  life  had  gone 
to  pay  the  penalty  fate  had  exacted,  through  that  mistake, 
for  a  fault  he  had  almost  forgotten.  And  now,  desire  had 
failed  him;  his  spirit  was  utterly  broken. 

"  I  was  just  such  another  fool  as  yourself,  M'Kissock!  " 
said  he  in  a  hopeless  tone.  "  I  was  afraid  they  would  lay 
your  death  at  my  door,  and  —  I  bolted  too;  without  a  word 
to  a  living  soul.  I've  been  afraid  ever  since,  because  — 
I've  been  told  that  the  police  were  always  looking  for 
me." 


312  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

M'Kissock's  jaw  dropped.  He  looked  again  at  the  other's 
torn  uniform. 

"  Who  was  it  told  you  that?  "  he  asked,  almost  in  a  whis- 
per. 

"  The  Old  Man  on  the  Olive  Branch.  I've  been  chief 
engineer  on  his  ship  for  five  or  six  years,  and  before  that  — 
I  shipped  as  a  stoker  at  first,  M'Kissock,  at  Yedo,  in  Japan. 
I  was  starving  there.  And  I've  worked  for  him  all  that 
time  like  a  slave  —  on  the  strength  of  a  groundless 
lie!" 

"  Had  he  any  idea  who  you  were?  "  the  other  demanded. 

"  I  thought  he  must  know ;  but  I  can  see  now  that  he  was 
simply  making  a  fool  of  me  for  his  own  ends.  If  he  had 
known,  he  surely  wouldn't  have  sent  for  me  to  come  ashore 
here." 

"  He  certainly  would  not,"  agreed  his  companion  with 
grim  assurance,  and  they  both  fell  silent  again,  each  en- 
grossed in  his  own  overwhelming,  embittered  reflections. 

"  Dove  knows  nothing  at  all  about  you,"  said  Parish 
M'Kissock  presently,  and  Lord  Jura  looked  up  as  if  aston- 
ished at  the  sound  of  his  voice. 

"  But  —  how  do  you  know  that,  M'Kissock?  "  the  latter 
inquired  in  a  querulous  tone,  pulling  nervously  at  his  under- 
lip.  "  What  are  you  doing  here,  in  that  queer  rig-out?  I 
don't  understand.  Where  have  you  — 

"  I've  been  just  such  another  fool  as  yourself,  my  lord," 
said  Parish  M'Kissock,  his  voice  vibrant  with  impotent, 
irrepressible  anger.  "  It's  worse  than  damnable  to  think  - 
You'll  scarcely  believe  that  I've  served  under  Dove  in  my 
time,  but  it's  true  enough.  I  was  second  mate  on  the  Per 
de  Lance,  long  ago,  when  he  called  himself  Captain  Brown. 
And  —  I  owe  him  a  score  as  heavy  as  yours,  ay,  and  heavier; 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH    313 

a  score  I  came  here  to  pay.  But  I  was  too  hasty,  and  — 
he  got  the  better  of  me  at  the  start;  I  was  no  match  for  the 
two  of  them  —  he  had  the  man  Slyne  on  his  side."  His 
breath  almost  failed  him  and  he  fell  to  coughing  convul- 
sively. 

"  And  —  what  has  brought  them  to  Loquhariot?  "  the 
other  asked  in  utter  amazement  as  soon  as  he  could  make 
himself  heard.  But  Farish  M'Kissock  sat  wheezing  and 
gasping  for  some  little  time  before  answering  that. 

"  They  have  come  with  one  whom  they  call  the  Lady 
Josceline  Justice,"  said  he  at  length,  glancing  askance  at 
his  companion.  "  Slyne's  minded  to  marry  her  now  — 
and  so  lay  hands  on  all  that  is  yours." 

The  Earl  of  Jura  gazed  blankly  at  his  burst  boots.  His 
mind  was  all  in  a  muddle.  The  stokehold  of  the  Olive 
Branch,  and  then  its  engine-room,  seemed  to  have  sapped 
whatever  intelligence  he  might  once  have  possessed.  His 
belated  release  from  slavery  had  left  him  with  his  wits 
benumbed  and  torpid. 

"  But,  of  course,  they  don't  know  that  I  —  "he  began, 
his  face  brightening,  and  then  broke  off.  "  Where  did  they 
get  hold  of  her,  M'Kissock?  " 

"  Dove's  had  her  on  board  his  ship  for  years,"  said  Farish 
M'Kissock  brusquely. 

"  Is  it  Sallie  you're  talking  about! "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Good  God!  Can  it  be  possible  that  —  But  never  mind 
now.  I  must  —  "  He  made  as  if  to  rise. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  my  lord,"  requested  Farish  M'Kissock 
in  a  tone  which  compelled  his  attention.  "  You've  got  two 
desperate  men  to  deal,  with  above-stairs.  You've  seen  how 
they've  handled  me,  and  they  would  think  nothing  of  throw- 
ing the  two  of  us,  neck  and  crop,  into  the  drowning-hole  in 


314  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

the  tunnel  behind  you.  You  will  be  very  ill-advised  to 
beard  them  alone.  I  can  help  you  —  " 

"  How?  " 

"  You'll  see  when  the  time  comes." 

"  But  I  can't  stay  squatting  here  like  a  rat  in  a  drain 
while  they  —  I'm  a  free  man  —  now  that  I  know  you're 
alive  after  all,"  declared  the  ragged  scarecrow  with  the 
eyeglass,  as  if  to  encourage  himself.  "  And  I'm  Earl  of 
Jura ;  there's  no  getting  out  of  that.  I  must  put  a  stop  to 
Slyne's  villainous  scheme  at  once,  M'Kissock.  He's  a  rotten 
bad  egg;  7  know  him.  It  would  never  do  to  let  him  get  — 
her  into  his  infernal  clutches." 

Parish  M'Kissock  eyed  him  with  no  good  will. 

"  Ay,"  he  agreed  reluctantly.  "  Your  lordship's  a  belted 
earl  now,  by  all  the  laws  of  the  land.  And  Parish  M'Kis- 
sock that  was  a  king  is  fated  to  die  a  beggar. 

"  But;  first,  —  and  it's  hard,  dooms  hard !  —  I  must  help 
you  —  so  far  at  least.  It's  the  two  of  us  against  those  other 
two,  for  the  moment.  Afterwards,  we  will  talk  of  —  yon 
old  matter  between  us;  for,  mind  you!  Lord  Jura,  I  neither 
forget  nor  forgive." 

The  Earl  of  Jura  shrugged  his  shoulders  again.  He  had 
almost  forgotten  the  cause  of  his  old  quarrel  on  the  cliffs 
with  the  gamekeeper's  son.  He  had  more  than  enough  to 
think  about  in  its  seemingly  endless  outcome.  And  his 
apparent  indifference  seemed  to  inflame  the  hatred  the  other 
still  bore  him. 

"  I  will  help  you  —  but  only  because  I  must,1'  said  Parish 
M'Kissock  harshly.  "  And  you  must  help  me  to  help  you 
-  to  your  own  hurt." 

He  leaned  forward,  panting,  as  if  enraged  over  his  own 
weakness  of  body.  The  engineer  rose,  regarding  him  as  if 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH         315 

not  very  sure  of  his  sanity,  and,  having  picked  up  the 
candle,  assisted  him  to  his  feet.  He  stood  for  a  moment  sup- 
porting himself  by  the  wall,  his  knees  giving  and  recovering 
under  him,  and  then  the  giddiness  passed.  He  took  a  ten- 
tative step  or  two  and  presently  was  able  to  follow  his  res- 
cuer from  the  cell. 

"  Is  there  anyone  in  the  gun-room?  "  he  asked  in  an 
anxious  whisper  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  Lord  Jura  listened 
closely  for  a  moment  or  two  at  the  panel  above,  drew  it 
open  a  little,  and  looking  down  again,  shook  his  head. 
He  pulled  the  panel  wide  and  then  held  out  a  hand  to  his 
follower;  who  took  it  very  reluctantly  and,  with  its  aid, 
reached  the  room  above,  step  by  slow,  uncertain  step. 

"  Sit  down  and  rest  for  a  minute  or  two,"  suggested  the 
engineer. 

"  Not  here,"  he  demurred.  "  It  wouldn't  be  safe  —  too 
near  the  tunnel.  We  must  have  help  at  hand  when  we 
meet  them.  What  time  is  it?  They'll  be  at  dinner  now. 
Take  me  along  the  servants'  passage  and  by  the  terrace  to 
the  Pipers'  Port:  we  should  meet  no  one  that  way." 

But  the  other,  a  hand  at  his  tremulous  lips,  was  looking 
with  mazed  eyes  about  the  remembered  room  that  he  had 
so  often  seen  in  his  dreams  during  the  age-long  time  of  tor- 
ment he  had  endured.  His  rods  lay  ready  for  use  in  the 
long  rack  where  he  had  left  them.  A  pair  of  guns  his  father 
had  given  him  stood  in  their  usual  place  at  one  end  of  the 
full  stand  adorning  one  wall.  The  head  of  his  first  stag 
still  hung  above  the  mantel,  and  the  big  wild-cat  he  had 
killed  in  the  wood  behind  his  hut  on  the  cliffs  glared  at  him 
out  of  its  glass  eyes  from  over  the  door  leading  to  the  pantry. 
That  corner  at  least  of  the  castle  was  quite  unchanged. 

He  caught  sight  of  his  own  reflection  in  the  plate-glass 


316  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

casing  which  covered  another  full  stand  of  guns,  and  turned 
away  from  it  with  a  grimace  of  distaste.  He  had  certainly 
changed,  and  very  much  for  the  worse,  himself,  since  he 
had  last  seen  Loquhariot  He  glanced  at  Parish  M'Kissock, 
the  gamekeeper's  son  with  whom  he  had  fought,  as  he  al- 
most blushed  to  remember,  about  a  girl,  and  was  still  more 
shocked  to  see  the  skeleton-like,  decrepit-looking  old  man 
regarding  him  with  hot,  inimical  eyes  from  under  shaggy 
down-drawn  white  eyebrows  above  which  hung  long  matted 
locks  of  grey  hair  darkly  discoloured  with  drying  blood; 
for  they  two  had  been  headstrong  lads  together,  friends  in 
some  sort,  companions  at  least  in  many  a  scapegrace  prank. 

"Ay,"  said  Parish  M'Kissock  unpleasantly,  as  though 
reading  the  thought  that  ran  through  his  mind.  "  I'm  far 
worse-looking  than  you  are,  my  lord.  And  something  of 
that  I  am  owing  your  lordship.  But  never  mind  now;  we 
have  other  matters  before  us  first,  and  it  will  be  well  to 
attend  to  them  before  it  may  be  too  late." 

The  engineer  started  at  that.  His  head  was  not  very 
clear  and  he  had  for  the  moment  almost  forgotten  — 

"  Come  on,  then,  M'Kissock,"  said  he,  and  blew  out  the 
candle  he  was  still  unconsciously  carrying  and  led  the  way 
through  the  little  pantry  behind. 

The  two  of  them  emerged  from  that  into  a  dimly  lighted 
passage  along  which  they  proceeded  without  a  sound  as  far 
as  another  door  which  opened  outward  on  to  the  lower 
battlements  at  the  seaward  front  of  the  castle. 

"Let  me  through  first,"  requested  Parish  M'Kissock, 
after  his  companion  had  made  sure  that  there  was  no  one 
beyond  it,  "  and  mind  that  the  wind  doesn't  drive  it  shut 
with  a  clash."  He  was  firmer  upon  his  feet  now  and  seemed 
to  have  gained  some  measure  of  strength  from  the  stimulus 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH         317 

of  his  stubborn  purpose.  Bare-foot  as  he  was,  he  took  no 
notice  of  the  driving  snow  on  the  terrace  outside,  although 
his  companion  shivered  as  they  turned  along  the  wall  in 
the  teeth  of  the  blast  that  was  blowing. 

"  Get  inside,  for  God's  sake!  "  Lord  Jura  begged  of  the 
ghostly  figure  in  front  of  him  as  it  stooped  to  set  an  ear  to 
the  keyhole  in  the  portico  at  the  other  end  of  the  terrace, 
and  his  teeth  were  chattering  when  he  entered  the  dark, 
empty  closet  behind  it. 

He  had  to  set  his  shoulder  to  it  to  shut  it  against  the 
storm.  As  soon  as  he  had  accomplished  that,  he  shook  the 
snow  from  his  ragged  coat  and  struck  a  match  and  glanced 
stupidly  about  him. 

"  Put  that  out,"  ordered  Parish  M'Kissock  in  a  sup- 
pressed, angry  whisper.  "  They'll  maybe  see  some  glimmer 
-  they're  all  inside." 

The  other  obeyed  him  meekly,  and  for  a  space  the  two 
of  them  stood  there  in  the  darkness,  on  the  alert,  drawing 
quick,  restricted  breaths.  They  could  hear  the  echo  of 
voices  from  the  banquet-hall.  These  gradually  died  away, 
all  but  one  which  seemed  to  be  telling  some  story.  A  dis- 
tant crash,  as  of  a  dish  dropped  on  the  floor,  alarmed  the 
two  listeners,  but  after  that  the  conversation  and  laughter 
within  went  on  again.  The  engineer  crossed  the  closet 
noiselessly  on  his  rubber  soles,  and,  "  What  next,  M'Kis- 
sock? "  he  whispered,  as  if  content  to  resign  himself  to  the 
guidance  of  the  more  masterful  will. 

"  You  will  go  in  to  them,"  the  other  instructed  him. 
"  Hear  what  you  can  before  you  declare  yourself,  and  — 
you  must  judge  for  yourself  what  to  say  and  do.  I'll  wait 
behind  for  a  bit  —  Dove  and  Slyne  believe  that  I'm  safely 
out  of  the  way  —  but,  as  soon  as  it's  needful,  I'll  face  them 


318  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

too.  Till  then,  never  mention  my  name  nor  any  word  of 
what  I  have  told  you. 

"  Pluck  up  some  heart!  "  he  hissed  savagely.  "  This  is 
the  Castle  of  Loquhariot  —  and  you're  the  Earl  of  Jura. 
But  they'll  out-match  you  yet  unless  you  stand  your 
ground  against  them." 

The  engineer  humbly  attempted  to  square  his  shoulders, 
and,  fumbling,  found  the  latch  of  the  door.  He  opened  it 
very  quietly,  enough  and  no  more  to  see  through  into  the 
banquet-hall:  and  stood  there  for  a  time  studying  the  scene 
at  the  table.  Parish  M'Kissock,  at  his  elbow,  was  staring 
out  at  it  too,  with  fierce,  eager  eyes.  He  pulled  the  door 
slowly  back,  and  Lord  Jura  passed  through,  unnoticed 
among  the  shadows  in  that  obscure  corner. 

A  cork  popped  explosively,  and  the  butler  came  forward 
from  the  buffet  with  a  big,  golden-necked  bottle.  The 
engineer  paused.  He  had  recognised  Captain  Dove  in  the 
distance  and  notwithstanding  the  old  man's  unusual  garb 
and  black  glasses. 

He  caught  sight  of  Sallie,  bewilderingly  beautiful  in  a 
costume  such  as  he  had  not  set  eyes  upon  since  —  he  had 
last  dined  there  himself.  He  squared  his  stooping  shoulders 
again,  and  saw  Slyne  rise  from  his  seat,  the  wine-glass  the 
butler  had  just  filled  for  him  in  one  hand. 

The  talk  and  laughter  gradually  subsided  and  silence 
ensued.  Lord  Jura  took  a  tentative  step  toward  the  table, 
and  stopped  again  as  Slyne's  careless,  smiling  glance  sud- 
denly met  his  and  changed  to  a  rigid  scowl.  Then  Captain 
Dove  looked  round,  and,  after  a  breathless  interval,  "  What 
the  devil  do  you  want  here,  Brasse!  "  he  cried  explosively. 

At  the  sound  of  that  harsh,  hated  voice,  all  the  uncertain 
presence  of  mind  the  intruder  could  boast  deserted  him, 


A  MATTER  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH         319 

He  stood  as  if  rooted  there,  a  shrinking,  irresolute  figure, 
until  the  old  factor  came  shuffling  across  the  floor  toward 
him  and  some  one  else  lifted  the  shade  off  one  of  the  lights 
on  the  candelabra  so  that  it  shone  full  on  his  drawn,  hag- 
gard face. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

DEBIT  AND   CREDIT 

"  4  ND  you're  —  Earl  of  Jura  —  now,"  stammered 
f-\  Herries,  helplessly,  as  though  that  undeniable 
fact  altogether  staggered  belief. 

The  ragged  scarecrow  with  the  eyeglass  nodded,  some- 
what shamefacedly,  and  once  more  made  a  pitiful  effort 
to  straighten  his  stooping  shoulders.  Herries  looked  away, 
wretchedly,  and  then,  as  if  understanding  something 
of  what  must  be  in  his  mind,  took  it  upon  himself  to 
dismiss  the  servants,  but  bidding  them  remain  within  call 
and  also  to  see  to  it  that  no  word  went  elsewhere  of  what 
they  had  seen  and  heard  in  the  banquet-hall. 

The  rest  of  the  company  were  regarding  the  ex-engineer 
of  the  Olive  Branch  with  very  varied  expressions.  A  sickly 
pallor  had  overspread  Slyne's  rigid  features  as  he  heard 
the  title  by  which  Herries  had  addressed  that  untimeous 
intruder.  Captain  Dove,  his  hands  still  on  the  table  before 
him,  and  crouching  as  if  to  spring,  was  breathing  jerkily 
from  between  set  teeth,  like  one  with  a  seizure.  The  Mar- 
quis of  Ingoldsby's  narrow  forehead  was  corrugated  by  a 
fixed  and  splenetic  frown  which  kept  his  eyes  and  mouth  at 
their  very  widest.  Behind  Sallie's  questioning,  compassion- 
ate, clouded  glance  lurked  hope,  and  fear,  and  a  steadfast  de- 
termination ;  she  was  still  holding  fast  the  stem  of  her  wine- 
glass. Justin  Carthew  looked  as  if  he  did  not  know  in  the 


DEBIT  AND  CREDIT  321 

least  who  or  where  he  was.  Mr.  Jobling's  purple  visage  and 
pendulous  jowl  spoke  plainly  the  apoplectic  and  painful 
nature  of  his  emotions.  Of  them  all,  only  the  Duchess  of 
Dawn  seemed  to  have  preserved  any  measure  of  self-posses- 
sion. 

While  Herries  was  giving  the  butler  his  orders,  she  crossed 
toward  the  fireplace  with  a  little  characteristic,  impulsive 
gesture. 

"  I  hope  you  haven't  forgotten  me,  Torquil?  "  said  she, 
almost  timidly.  It  could  not  but  hurt  her  to  see  what  the 
years  had  made  of  the  man  who,  when  she  had  met  him  last, 
had  been  little  more  than  a  teasing,  mischievous  school-boy. 

•'  I  knew  you  at  once,"  he  replied,  and  blinked  back  at  her 
and  cleared  his  throat  uncomfortably.  The  pinch  of  his 
present  decayed  estate  before  her  once  more  quickened  his 
numb  sense  of  the  grievous  injury  done  him  by  Captain 
Dove.  He  glanced  again  in  Captain  Dove's  direction,  but 
the  old  man's  gaze  met  his  absolutely  mystified;  and  his 
heavy  heart  began  to  grow  hot  again  as  he  recalled  how  often 
his  cunning  taskmaster  had  cowed  him  by  dint  of  threats 
to  disclose  his  unknown  identity  to  the  police. 

"  We  all  believed  you  were  dead,"  said  the  duchess,  and 
he  answered  her  stupidly,  at  random.  His  sullen  eyes  had 
encountered  Slyne's,  in  which  he  read  aright  dismay  un- 
speakable and  a  stunned  seeking  after  some  elusive  scheme 
to  turn  the  tables  upon  him  yet.  She  saw  how  distrait  he 
was.  "  But  you'll  tell  me  by  and  by  something  of  your 
adventures,"  said  she.  "  I  just  wanted  to  say  how  glad  I 
am  —  that  you're  safe  and  sound  after  all.  And  now  I'll 
be  off  to  the  drawing-room  with  Ingoldsby.  We're  only  in 
the  way  here.  I  know  you  must  have  a  great  deal  to  say 
to  your  sister." 


322  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

He  started  at  hearing  Sallie  so  styled.  His  restless  regard 
had  reached  her,  at  the  end  of  the  table  next  him,  and  he 
wondered  what  it  could  be  that  had  brought  such  an  un- 
controllable gleam  of  relief  into  her  still  bewildered  eyes. 

"  I  wish  you  would  wait  for  a  little,  if  you  don't  mind," 
he  answered  the  duchess.  "  I'd  like  you  to  stay  beside  her 
until  —  I  get  rid  of  some  of  those  others,  if  you  don't 
mind." 

She  nodded,  if  rather  reluctantly,  and  turned  aside  toward 
Herries  as  Sallie  approached,  holding  out  to  the  shabby 
prodigal  whose  belated  return  had  brought  about  such  a 
stupefying  change  in  the  situation  there  a  tremulous,  eager 
hand. 

"  You're  just  in  tune,"  Sallie  said  to  him  in  such  a  glad, 
warm,  grateful  voice  that  even  he,  who  knew  very  well 
her  generous  nature,  was  almost  surprised  by  her  evident 
pleasure  in  thus  admitting  his  prior  right  to  the  high  rank 
and  vast  heritage  which  he  believed  should  have  been  hers 
but  for  him.  He  was  infinitely  embarrassed  when,  before 
them  all,  she  stooped  and  touched  with  her  lips  the  back  of 
the  claw-like,  toil-stained  hand,  he  had  tried  hard  to  with- 
hold from  her. 

And  she,  having  sealed  her  abdication  in  such  wise,  looked 
up  into  his  flushed  face  with  a  swift,  shy  smile,  the  flutter  of 
the  fledgling  hope  in  her  heart  stirring  softly  the  priceless 
lace  that  outlined  her  bosom,  and  the  little  golden  locket 
that  lay  therein. 

"  You're  my  brother  —  my  step-brother,  now,  aren't 
you,  Mr.  Brasse?  "  she  asked,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"  It  seems  so,  Sallie,"  he  answered  mechanically,  his 
wandering  wits  almost  beyond  his  control.  Her  uncon- 
scious use  of  the  name  by  which  she  had,  always  known  him 


She  touched  with  her  lips  the  back  of  the  toil-stained  hand. 


DEBIT  AND  CREDIT  323 

had  brought  to  his  mental  vision  a  blurred  picture  of  her 
on  the  bridge  of  the  Olive  Branch  in  a  stiff  breeze,  himself 
at  the  fiddley-hatch. 

"  And  everything  that  might  have  been  mine  is  yours 
now?  " 

"  Ours,"  he  corrected,  without  any  interest,  as  if  that  was 
of  no  consequence.  "  There  should  be  enough  for  us  both; 
and,  in  any  case,  I  need  very  little  —  now." 

"  But  it's  all  yours  by  law,  isn't  it?  "  she  urged.  "  I  must 
make  sure,  because  —  "  She  looked  back,  over  her  shoul- 
der. Mr.  Jobling  had  joined  Slyne  and  Captain  Dove; 
the  three  of  them  were  engaged,  with  bated  breaths,  in  a 
sibilant  argument,  their  heads  very  close  together.  Lord 
Ingoldsby  had  just  risen  and  was  slouching  over  to  the  other 
ingle-nook,  where  the  duchess  had  made  Herries  sit  down. 
Only  Justin  Carthew  remained  motionless,  half  turned  in 
his  high-backed  chair,  leaning  heavily  on  one  of  its  arms 
while  he  still  stared,  almost  unseeingly,  at  Sallie  and  her 
companion. 

"  How  does  that  fellow  come  to  be  here?  "  asked  the  ex- 
engineer,  indicating  Carthew  with  a  puzzled  nod,  and,  as 
Sallie  told  him  what  had  occurred  since  she  herself  had  ar- 
rived at  Loquhariot,  his  expression  grew  always  more  blank 
again.  But  when  she  went  on  to  explain  how  Slyne  had 
tried  to  entrap  her  for  his  own  profit,  his  dull  eyes  bright- 
ened and  began  to  burn. 

"  And  now,"  she  said  at  last,  "  perhaps  he  won't  want  to 
marry  me  —  when  there's  nothing  to  be  gained  by  it.  I 
can't  tell  you  how  thankful  I  am  that  you've  come  home 
in  time." 

Carthew  got  up  from  the  table  then  and  came  limping 
forward  to  greet  the  man  whose  belated  home-coming  had 


324  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

made  such  a  difference  to  him.  And  Mr.  Jobling,  evidently 
fired  by  his  example,  followed,  to  beg  an  introduction  from 
her  ladyship  to  his  lordship. 

"  I've  been  acting  for  Lady  Josceline,  my  lord,"  he  ex- 
plained very  volubly,  having  thus  secured  his  lordship's 
by  no  means  favourable  attention,  "  just  as  I  would  have 
been  most  happy  to  act  for  your  lordship  if  I  had  known  —  " 
He  came  to  a  sudden  stop,  except  for  a  stifled,  explosive  hic- 
cough, as  Captain  Dove  shouldered  him  aside  and  con- 
fronted the  ex-engineer  of  the  Olive  Branch  with  his  most 
sleek,  benevolent  expression. 

Slyne  was  close  behind  Captain  Dove.  The  pallor  had 
passed  from  his  face.  Mr.  Jobling  apparently  did  not  deem 
it  politic  to  push  in  again  just  then.  He  choked  down  his 
not  unnatural  indignation  and  stayed  hovering  about,  very 
ill  at  ease,  in  the  background.  The  others,  all  but  Sallie, 
had  also  moved  a  little  away. 

But  it  did  not  seem  to  be  Captain's  Dove's  idea  to  ex- 
change any  quiet  confidences  with  his  late  chief-engineer. 
What  he  had  to  say  was  for  all  ears.  Without  witnesses  he 
would,  no  doubt,  have  conducted  himself  very  differently. 
Handicapped  as  he  was  by  their  company,  he  had  no  re- 
course but  to  enlist  their  sympathies  on  his  side. 

"  Well,  if  this  doesn't  beat  all  for  luck!  "  said  he  in  a  tone 
of  the  extremest  gratification,  his  visible  features  wreathed 
in  an  unctuous  smile.  "  I  don't  suppose  you're  sorry  now 
that  you  came  ashore  when  I  sent  for  you,  eh!  You  must 
admit  that  I've  managed  a  very  pleasant  little  surprise  for 
you  —  " 

:c  You've  managed  nothing  —  except  to  put  your  own 
neck  into  a  noose  at  last,"  retorted  Lord  Jura.  He  was 
standing  very  erect  although  he  could  not  control  the  nerv- 


DEBIT  AND  CREDIT  325 

ous  tremor  at  the  back  of  his  neck.  He  saw  no  need  now  to 
mince  matters  with  the  old  man,  whose  callous  effrontery 
was  stirring  his  sluggish  pulses  to  such  a  pitch  that  he  could 
scarcely  resist  the  dire  temptation  to  spring  at  his  throat 
and  choke  the  evil  life  out  of  him  there  and  then.  But  a 
light  hand  laid  on  his  arm  diverted  him  for  a  moment  from 
any  such  insane  idea,  and  his  unreasoning  rage  died 
down  a  little  as  he  looked  round  into  Sallie's  appealing 
eyes. 

"  How  long  will  it  take  to  get  the  police  here,  Herries?  " 
he  asked  abruptly  over  one  shoulder.  And,  at  that,  the 
arras  in  the  dark  corner  beside  the  Pipers'  Port  swayed 
slightly,  as  though  there  were  some  one  behind  it  about  to 
come  forth. 

"  The  telegraph-wire  is  down,  my  lord,"  the  old  factor 
answered  doubtfully,  "  and  —  it  would  maybe  be  wasting  a 
life  to  send  anyone  to  attempt  the  Pass  with  a  message  in 
weather  like  this.  But  —  till  we  can  safely  get  word  to  the 
police,  there  are  lots  of  stout  lads  in  Loquhariot  that  will 
do  your  lordship's  bidding." 

"  And  more  on  board  the  Olive  Branch  that  will  do  mine," 
Captain  Dove  interrupted,  with  a  smooth  assurance  which 
could  not  but  add  to  the  listeners'  perturbation.  "  Da 
Costa  has  his  orders,  too.  It  will  be  a  bad  look  out  for 
Loquhariot  if  ever  he  and  his  lambs  have  to  come  ashore 
here  to  look  for  me.  You've  seen  them  crack  far  harder 
nuts  than  this  ramshackle  old  castle  of  yours!  You  know 
very  well  — 

"  But  what's  the  use  of  arguing  about  it?  You  owe  me 
far  too  much  to  talk  in  that  style.  If  you  could  fetch  the 
police  here  at  this  moment,  you  couldn't  afford  to  face 
them.  You've  surely  forgotten  —  " 


326  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I  have  forgotten  nothing,"  Lord  Jura  assured  him, 
in  a  steady,  ominous  voice. 

"  That's  just  as  well,"  declared  Captain  Dove,  who 
seemed  determined  to  stand  his  ground,  "  because  it  will 
save  me  reminding  you,  before  your  fashionable  friends, 
how  much  I've  done  for  you,  first  and  last,  since  I  picked 
you  up  derelict  on  the  beach  at  Yedo.  You'd  have  been 
very  badly  off  without  me  then,  eh!  And,  but  for  me, 
you'd  maybe  have  come  to  a  worse  end  than  starving,  since. 
I've  brought  you  back  to  your  own,  when  all's  said  and 
done.  It  doesn't  say  much  for  you,  Lord  Jura,  that  you'd 
turn  round  on  me  now!  " 

He  spoke  pathetically,  as  one  disappointed  in  the  return 
made  him  for  favours  lavished  with  a  free  hand.  And  such 
of  the  others  as  did  not  know  the  real  facts  of  the  matter 
looked  somewhat  doubtfully  at  Lord  Jura.  Captain  Dove 
was  obviously  pleased  with  the  impression  he  had  pro- 
duced. 

"  Everything  you  have  done  has  been  done  entirely  to 
serve  your  own  ends,"  the  ex-engineer  answered  him 
in  few  words.  "  I  owe  you  no  favour  —  not  the  very 
slightest.  You  owe  me  God  knows  how  many  years  of 
my  life  that  you've  tricked  me  out  of.  And,  what's 
more  — ' 

"  And  what's  more,"  Captain  Dove  interrupted,  "  you 
think  you  owe  me  only  a  grudge.  You've  no  more  use  for 
me  now  that  I've  served  your  turn.  I've  asked  nothing  of 
you,  you'll  notice.  It's  only  because  you've  thought  fit 
to  threaten  me  that  I've  reminded  you  —  " 

"  There  was  no  need,"  Lord  Jura  asserted.  "  I  have 
forgotten  nothing.  You  can  tell  your  side  of  the  story  to 
the  judge  at  the  next  assizes  —  and  I'll  tell  mine." 


DEBIT  AND  CREDIT  327 

Mr.  Jobling's  puffy  face  blanched  at  that,  but  Captain 
Dove  did  not  even  change  countenance. 

"  So  much  for  yourself,"  said  he  patiently.  "  You  think 
you  can  best  whiten  your  own  record  by  trying  to  blacken 
mine.  I'll  say  no  more  about  that  —  except  that  it  isn't 
always  true  that  dead  men  tell  no  tales.  And  you'll  have 
to  tell  the  judge  at  the  next  assizes  the  real  reason  why  you 
ran  away  from  home." 

He  was  watching  the  other's  face  narrowly,  to  see  what 
effect  that  stray  shot  might  have,  and  was  clearly  encour- 
aged at  seeing  Lord  Jura  wince. 

"  But  there's  another  point  to  be  settled,"  he  went  on 
with  slow  insistence,  "  before  we  go  any  further.  I've 
brought  you  back  to  your  own,  as  I  said,  and,  more  than 
that,  I've  brought  you  back  —  your  sister.  I  wouldn't 
have  made  any  song-an'-dance  about  such  a  small  matter 
either,  but  —  since  it's  to  be  debit  and  credit  between  us, 
I'd  like  to  know  how  you  think  that  affects  the  account. 

"  You  say  you've  forgotten  nothing.  Have  you  remem- 
bered that  I've  brought  her  up,  so  to  speak,  since  she  was 
knee-high  to  me?  Have  you  ever  thought  where  she'd  be 
to-day  if  I  hadn't  —  But,  of  course,  you  don't  know  where 
I  came  across  her.  And  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  just  now. 
All  I  will  say  is  that  it  rests  absolutely  in  my  hands  whether 
—  whether  she  stays  safe  here  with  you  or  -  You  may 
believe  me  or  not,  as  you  like,  but  —  Better  talk  it  over 
with  her  before  you  go  any  further,  —  my  lord!  " 

He  frowned,  as  if  warningly,  at  Sallie,  and  turned  on  his 
heel  and,  swaggering  back  to  the  table,  grotesquely  aggres- 
sive, sat  down  again  with  his  back  to  them  all,  leaving  them 
to  make  whatever  they  liked  of  his  veiled  threat  and  half- 
spoken  hints  as  to  his  mysterious  power  over  her.  Slyne 


328  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

followed  him.  But  Mr.  Jobling  pushed  forward  again,  eager 
to  establish  himself  on  a  safer  footing  of  service  to  the  other 
side. 

"  If  your  lordship  will  allow  me,"  said  he,  his  head  on 
one  side,  shoulders  bent  and  hands  clasped,  "  I  think  I  can 
undertake  to  arrange  matters  for  you  with  Captain  Dove. 
Some  small  money  payment,  perhaps,  would  save  further 
unpleasantness  —  for  her  ladyship  as  well.  We  can  scarcely 
contest  his  claim  for  at  least  the  amount  of  —  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about  —  or  what 
business  it  is  of  yours!  "  said  Lord  Jura  sharply  and  turned 
to  give  Herries  some  order.  But,  before  he  could  speak, 
Sallie  claimed  his  attention  again. 

"  Let  them  go,"  she  implored  of  him  vehemently.  "  Oh, 
please  let  them  go.  Don't  send  for  the  police.  I  couldn't 
bear  to  think  that  they  had  come  to  any  harm  through  help- 
ing me  —  even  for  their  own  purposes.  And  some  of  what 
Captain  Dove  says  is  true  enough:  he's  looked  after  me 
for  longer  than  I  can  remember,  almost  —  and  but  for  him 
I  wouldn't  be  here  now.  The  past  has  sometimes  been 
very  hard  for  us  both.  It  would  spoil  the  future  entirely 
for  me  if  I  felt  that  I  had  been  the  means  of  betraying  him 
to  the  police.  If  they'll  only  promise  to  leave  us  alone 
now,  won't  you  let  them  go?  —  for  my  sake." 

Lord  Jura  pulled  at  his  under-lip  in  helpless  indecision. 
He  knew  that  he  could  not  for  long  deny  the  girl  anything 
she  asked  of  him  thus. 

"  You  don't  understand,  Sallie,"  he  said  at  length,  very 
vexedly.  "  You'd  better  go  off  to  your  own  room  now,  — 
and  take  Lady  Jane  —  the  duchess  —  with  you.  Leave 
me  to  deal  with  the  Old  Man  and  Slyne;  it  isn't  only  on  my 
own  account  —  " 


DEBIT  AND  CREDIT  329 

"  Will  you  set  them  on  board  the  Olive  Branch  safe,  if 
they  promise  to  leave  us  alone  now?  "  she  urged,  not  to  be 
denied  in  her  purpose. 

"  But,  —  what  are  they  to  you?  "  he  demanded.  "  Surely 
—  it  can't  be  -  You  don't  —  care  for  Jasper  Slyne,  do 
you,  Sallie?  I'll  let  him  go,  if  you  like  —  though  he  doesn't 
deserve  it." 

She  shuddered.  "  If  you  hadn't  come  to-night,"  she  told 
him  tremulously,  "  you  wouldn't  have  found  me  here  — 
alive.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  —  "  Her  voice  died  away, 
but  he  understood. 

"  But  I  can't  treat  them  as  they  would  me,"  she  re- 
minded him,  her  anxious  eyes  holding  his  till  he  looked 
away,  with  an  effort  of  will.  "  I  could  never  be  happy  here, 
or  anywhere  else,  if  I  left  any  of  my  old  shipmates  in  the 
power  of  the  law.  Chance  has  brought  us  both  here  —  and 
in  time.  Will  you  not  wipe  the  past  out  of  your  mind  en- 
tirely, as  I  have  done,  and  —  You  won't  refuse  me  the 
first  favour  I  have  asked  of  you,  here  in  your  home?  And 
I  won't  ever  forget  how  good  you  have  always  been  to  me." 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  again,  and  was  lost.  "  Have 
it  your  own  way,  then,"  he  said,  as  if  with  a  grudge. 
"  But  —  "  His  face  fell.  He  looked  furtively  behind  him. 
He  had  just  remembered  his  pact  with  Parish  M'Kissock. 
"  You  must  get  rid  of  them  both  at  once,  and  very  quietly," 
he  whispered.  "  I  won't  answer  for  what  may  happen  yet 
unless  —  " 

Sallie  did  not  even  wait  to  thank  him  for  his  weak-willed 
complaisance.  She  crossed  swiftly  to  the  table  where 
Jasper  Slyne  and  Mr.  Jobling  were  once  more  in  low-voiced 
conclave  with  Captain  Dove. 

The  three  conspirators,  sitting  with  heads  together,  in 


330  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

angry,  undertoned  argument,  glanced  up  as  she  approached 
them.  Their  lowering  faces  lightened  a  little  at  sight  of 
her,  but  fell  again  into  black,  rebellious  masks  while  they 
listened  sullenly  to  what  she  had  to  say.  As  she  finished, 
Captain  Dove  brought  a  heavy  fist  down  upon  the  table 
like  a  sledge-hammer,  and,  while  the  glasses  still  rang  to 
its  impact  on  the  solid  oak,  "  I'll  be  damned  if  I  budge  from 
here  by  one  step,"  he  cried  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
sprang  from  his  chair,  "  till  it  suits  me."  He  pulled  his 
smoked  glasses  from  off  his  nose,  flung  them  on  the  floor, 
and  trod  viciously  upon  them  as  he  advanced  on  Lord  Jura 
again,  ignoring  all  his  companions'  attempts  to  restrain 
him. 

"  Now,  see  here,  my  friend!  "  said  he  with  another  fierce 
imprecation,  and  thrust  his  face  up  close  to  the  ex-engineer's 
while  Carthew  stepped  hastily  forward  beside  Lord  Jura. 
"  Now,  see  here,  my  friend!  I've  had  about  enough  of  you 
and  your  nonsense.  Say  whatever  you've  got  to  say  to  me 
now  yourself  and  be  done  with  it.  Then  I'll  tell  you  what 
you're  going  to  do  —  for  me  and  my  adopted  daughter. 
There's  no  need  for  any  more  humming  and  hawing  about 
it.  Speak  up!  " 

But  his  former  slave  did  not  shrink  from  before  his  wither- 
ing glance.  The  banquet-hall  of  Loquhariot  was  not  the 
bridge  of  the  Olive  Branch:  and  Lord  Jura  was  even  glad 
that  his  one-time  tyrant  did  not  seem  disposed  to  avail 
himself  of  that  last  chance  of  escape  at  which  Sallie  had 
beguiled  him  into  conniving. 

"  For  my  sister's  sake,"  he  said  quietly,  and  not  without 
dignity,  "  I  was  willing  to  —  " 

''  You'll  do  whatever  I  tell  you  —  for  your  own  sake  as 
well  as  your  sister's,"  broke  in  Captain  Dove,  and  looked 


DEBIT  AND  CREDIT  331 

him  up  and  down  with  a  virtuous  frown.  "  Why,  but  for 
me,  you'd  have  no  sister!  "  He  lowered  his  voice  to  a 
threatening  whisper.  "  And  you'd  have  hung  long  ago 
yourself,  for  the  murder  that  you  did  here!  "  he  hissed. 

Lord  Jura  regarded  him  gravely  for  a  moment  or  two, 
in  silence;  and  then,  turning  toward  the  Pipers'  Port,  "  Are 
you  there,  M'Kissock?  "  he  called,  in  the  tone  of  one  en- 
titled to  prompt  attention. 


CHAPTER  XXVHI 

ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE 

THERE  was  something  very  dreadful  about  Parish 
M'Kissock's  appearance  as  he  came  shuffling  for- 
ward from  the  corner  under  the  gallery.    His  torn 
and  travel-stained  white  robe  gave  him  a  ghostly  aspect 
which  was  heightened  by  the  cold  and  clammy  pallor  of 
his  face,  his  sunken  eyes,  the  matted,  blood-stained  tangle 
of  grey  hair  that  merged  into  a  long,  unkempt  beard  and 
moustache.     He  moved  like  an  automaton,  with  all  his 
limbs  and  joints  loose.    The  stamp  of  death  was  on  him. 

The  Duchess  of  Dawn  shrank  into  the  ingle  behind  her 
as  he  approached,  and  her  noble  nephew  backed  after  her, 
one  elbow  uplifted,  fists  clenched,  with  the  apparent  idea 
of  protecting  her  from  that  spectre-like  apparition;  at  whom 
Herries  also  was  gazing,  aghast  but  motionless,  while  Mr. 
Jobling,  with  bulging  eyes  and  open  mouth,  felt  about  him 
as  if  for  some  friendly  hand  to  clutch  at  and,  finding  none, 
laid  hold  of  Slyne  by  the  coat  —  who  struck  his  fingers 
away  with  a  muttered  oath.  Slyne  and  Captain  Dove  and 
Justin  Carthew  were  all  regarding  him  with  blank  dismay. 
Sallie  uttered  a  little,  low,  pitiful  cry  as  she  recognised  in 
the  worn-out  wreck  who  had  halted  mutely  a  few  paces 
away  the  man  she  had  seen  only  a  month  or  two  before  in 
the  prime  of  life  and  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  the  Emir 
El  Parish. 


ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE  333 

His  burning  eyes  met  and  held  Captain  Dove's  cowed, 
murderous,  questing  glance  for  a  moment;  and  then  he 
laughed,  in  a  most  grisly  manner. 

"  I'm  dying  now,  Captain  Dove,"  said  he,  in  a  strong, 
deep  voice  that  contrasted  strangely  with  his  obvious  bodily 
exhaustion,  "  a  day  or  two  sooner  than  need  have  been  — 
but  for  you.  You're  hale  and  strong  yet.  You'll  fight  hard 
—  when  the  hangman  and  his  mates  come  quietly  into  your 
cell  at  daybreak  to  pinion  you.  And,  when  you're  standing 
on  the  trap,  with  your  head  in  a  bag  and  the  knot  in  a  new 
rope  rasping  under  one  ear,  you'll  think  of  me  that's  waiting 
for  you  in  the  pit  below  the  scaffold. 

"  But  that's  for  by  and  by;  and  there's  to-day  to  be 
done  with  first."  He  laughed  again,  in  such  a  fashion  that 
the  listeners  shuddered.  "  I  told  you  there  was  nothing  at 
all  that  would  avail  you  against  me,"^said  he.  "  Maybe 
you'll  believe  me  now!  " 

Captain  Dove  looked  furtively  round  at  the  others' 
faces,  and  spoke,  with  obvious  difficulty.  "  I've  no  idea 
what  you're  talking  about  - 

"  I  found  M'Kissock  —  where  you  left  him,"  interrupted 
Lord  Jura,  as  if  to  say  that  it  was  needless  now  to  deny 
anything. 

"  You'd  better  send  him  back  there,  then,"  Captain  Dove 
retorted  rancorously.  "  The  man's  mad  —  and  dangerous. 
That's  why  I  had  him  shut  up.  He  thinks  he  has  some 
grudge  against  you,  too.  Take  care  he  doesn't  — 

"  I'm  not  mad.  I'm  not  even  dangerous  enough  to  save 
the  hangman  his  job  with  you,"  said  Parish  M'Kissock 
quietly,  and  turned  to  Lord  Jura  again.  "  But  you'll  see 
to  it,  my  lord,  that  the  cruel  wrongs  this  old  Judas  has 
wrought  you  and  me  —  ay,  and  even  the  innocent  girl  be- 


334  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

side  you  there  —  are  avenged  to  the  uttermost.  I  can 
trust  you  for  that  at  least." 

Lord  Jura  looked  forlornly  at  Sallie.  He  could  not  now 
recall  his  promise  to  her  if  Captain  Dove  still  chose  to  take 
advantage  of  that. 

"  Sal—  My  sister  has  begged  me  to  let  him  go  free, 
M'Kissock,"  he  said  at  length,  almost  apologetically, 
"  and  —  I've  agreed." 

Parish  M'Kissock's  head  had  begun  to  shake  as  if  with 
palsy.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not  articulate.  The 
veins  about  his  clammy,  yellow  temples  were  swelling 
darkly  out,  like  cords.  Carthew  limped  across  to  the  table 
and  brought  him  over  a  glass  of  water.  He  swallowed  some 
with  difficulty,  and,  finding  his  voice  again,  "  You  fool!  " 
he  cried,  with  inexpressible  bitterness.  "  Oh,  you  blind 
fool!  Will  you  let  him  serve  you  as  he  served  me  with  her 
to  help  him!  " 

Lord  Jura's  face  flushed. 

"  I  want  to  hear  no  more  from  you  in  that  strain,"  he 
said  haughtily,  as  if  the  old  spirit  of  place  and  power  were 
stirring  within  him  again.  "  It  is  sufficient  that  my  sister's 
wishes  — 

"  If  Sallie  were  your  sister,  it  would  make  no  difference," 
the  dying  man  declared  with  fierce  impatience.  "  This  is 
no  time  to  humour  whim  of  hers.  In  any  case  —  she  is  no 
kin  of  yours,  Lord  Jura,  as  Captain  Dove  well  knows.  He 
could  have  told  you  —  Keep  him  off!  He'll  make  an  end 
of  me  before  my  time  if  he  can,  to  silence  me.  And  you 
must  hear,  before  I  go,  — "  He  staggered  backward, 
coughing,  and  almost  choked  for  want  of  breath.  Captain 
Dove  had  made  a  wild  lunge  at  him,  but  Justin  Carthew 
had  sprung  forward  in  time  to  save  him  from  the  old  man's 


ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE  335 

frenzied  attempt:  and  Herries  and  Lord  Ingoldsby  also 
stepped  in  between  him  and  his  would-be  murderer. 

"  All  right,  then,"  panted  Captain  Dove.  "  Leave  me 
alone,  and  I'll  do  him  no  harm.  I  quite  forgot  that  he  was 
off  his  head,  his  lies  provoke  me  so." 

Lord  Jura  had  put  Sallie  behind  him  to  shield  her  in  the 
struggle  that  promised.  He  looked  round  at  her  then  with 
dazed,  doubtful  eyes  and  read  in  hers  pain  and  horror  and 
disbelief  equally  dreadful.  He  drew  a  deep,  sobbing  breath 
and  confronted  Parish  M'Kissock  again. 

"  What  in  God's  name  are  you  driving  at!  "  he  demanded, 
in  a  tone  which  told  the  stress  of  mind  he  was  suffering. 
And  Parish  M'Kissock  regarded  him  very  evilly  for  a  little 
before  replying.  Slyne  and  Captain  Dove  and  Carthew 
were  waiting,  as  if  on  barbed  tenter-hooks.  The  others, 
and  Sallie  also,  seemed  to  be  stricken  speechless  and  still. 

"  I  am  here  to  seek  my  revenge,  my  lord,  as  you  know," 
said  Parish  M'Kissock  slowly  at  length,  and  licked  his 
bloodless  lips.  "  There  is  still  a  small  matter  betwixt 
your  lordship  and  me  that  remains  to  be  settled  —  an  old 
wrong  done,  which  your  lordship  has  almost  forgotten,  it 
seems.  /  neither  forget  nor  forgive. 

"  I  may  not  have  time  left  to  tell  all  I  owe  Captain  Dove 
there  —  for  that  goes  back  through  long  years  to  what  I 
owe  you.  But,  before  I  am  done  with,  I  think  I  can  settle 
with  you  as  well  as  with  him. 

"  Sallie  is  no  sister  of  yours,  as  Captain  Dove  knows  — 
though  she  herself  has  been  beguiled  as  easily  as  your  lord- 
ship. Your  lordship's  sister,  the  Lady  Josceline  Justice, 
died  in  my  arms  eight  or  nine  weeks  ago :  and  she  was  my 
wife.  Sallie  there,  knowing  nothing,  saw  her  a  few  hours 
before  —  " 


336  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

He  blinked  and  hung  his  head  for  a  moment,  as  if  recall- 
ing all  that  had  come  to  pass  since  he  had  laid  the  light, 
wasted  body  aside  on  the  sand,  and  set  a  guard  over  it 
until  —  until  he  could  spare  time  to  see  to  a  decent  grave. 

"  She  was  my  wife,"  he  said  again,  looking  up  at  the  last 
of  the  haughty  Juras  with  hate  unquenchable  in  his  glance. 
"  And  that's  the  revenge  I  have  taken  on  you  and  yours, 
my  lord,  for  the  ill  your  lordship  lightly  wrought  —  the 
other,  that  should  have  been." 

A  woman's  voice  came  wailingly  from  the  musicians'  gal- 
lery and  Mr.  Jobling  uttered  a  low  moan  of  abject  fear. 
His  nerves  had  evidently  failed  him  altogether.  Hasty 
steps  were  descending  the  short  stone  stairway  which  led  to 
the  gallery,  and  then  Janet  M'Kissock  came  tottering  forth 
across  the  floor  from  the  foot  of  it. 

"  Oh,  Parish!  "  the  old  woman  cried  to  her  brother. 
"  Have  you  no  heart  at  all!  Are  there  not  enough  lives 
ruined  already  that  you  would  wreck  her  ladyship's  here 
as  well  ?  "  And  she  turned  toward  Sallie  with  a  poor,  pitiful 
gesture  as  of  protection.  "  It  cannot  be  as  you  say,"  she 
whimpered.  "  For  how  could  7  be  mistaken,  that  knew  her 
father  far  better  than  you  —  ay,  and  the  countess  her 
mother  too;  whose  locket  she  was  wearing  at  her  neck  the 
day  she  first  came  to  Loquhariot.  I'll  swear  to  it,  at  any 
rate!  I  had  it  for  a  time  in  my  own  keeping,  before  the 
countess  —  went  away. 

"  Ask  her  ladyship  where  she  got  the  locket,  your  grace. 
And  then  my  poor,  distracted  brother  will  maybe  admit 
that  he's  been  deceived  about  her." 

The  duchess's  anxious,  encouraging  look  seemed  to  beg  an 
answer  of  Sallie.  But  the  girl  was  gazing,  with  dumb 
dismay  in  her  wide,  wounded  eyes,  at  Parish  M'Kissock, 


ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE  337 

recalling  as  well  as  she  could  amid  such  a  maze  the  incidents 
of  the  hours  she  had  spent  in  his  camp  on  the  African  coast. 

Under  the  spell  of  his  piercing  glance  the  shadowy  ban- 
quet-hall of  Loquhariot  seemed  to  fade  away  from  her, 
and  in  its  place  she  saw  again  the  spacious  rose-pink  pavil- 
ion behind  the  carved  chair  on  which  he  was  seated  in  state 
among  his  staring  councillors,  under  a  great  green  flag  with 
a  golden  harp  on  its  heavy  folds.  Behind  her,  from  about 
the  picket-lines  where  she  had  noticed  the  negro  slaves  at 
their  work,  she  seemed  to  hear  the  whinnying  of  the  horses, 
the  vicious  squeals  of  the  restless  camels.  In  the  dim  crim- 
son glow  of  the  dying  fires  she  was  gazing  again  at  the  horse- 
hair tents  in  the  background,  and  the  multitude  of  men  and 
women  and  children  all  busy  about  them  in  the  open  air. 

She  saw,  as  if  in  a  vision,  the  Emir  spring  from  his  seat 
and  come  hastily  forward  to  where  she  stood  shrinkingly 
at  Captain  Dove's  shoulder.  He  was  tall  and  stalwart  on 
foot,  a  fine  figure  of  a  man  even  in  his  loose,  shapeless  gar- 
ments, with  a  bronzed,  hook-nosed,  handsome  face  of  his 
own,  a  heavy  moustache,  the  brooding,  patient,  predatory 
eyes  of  a  desert  vulture.  And,  as  he  confronted  Captain 
Dove,  over  whom  he  seemed  to  tower  threateningly,  the 
hood  of  his  selham  slipped  back,  disclosing  a  flaming  shock 
of  red  hair. 

Her  own  veil  had  slipped  to  her  chin,  but  she  had  been 
unconscious  of  that  until  his  blazing  eyes  had  shifted  from 
Captain  Dove's  unconcerned  face  to  hers.  She  pulled  it 
hurriedly  back  into  place,  and  he,  turning  to  the  curious 
onlookers,  rid  himself  of  their  company  before  he  called, 
in  a  caressing  voice,  on  some  one  within  the  big,  white  tent 
that  was  the  heart  of  his  stronghold.  And  there  came  forth 
a  woman,  veiled  as  she  herself  had  been,  but  dad  in  silk 


338  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

instead  of  cotton,  who  bowed  submissively  to  what  he  had 
to  say,  and  then  held  out  a  slender,  bloodless,  burning  hand 
to  her.  .  .  . 

It  all  came  back  to  her  memory,  as  if  in  a  lightning-flash 
that  left  her  stunned  and  helpless  to  face  the  appalling 
present  again.  She  knew  now  who  the  Emir's  wife  had 
been  —  a  girl  of  her  own  age,  but  grown  old  before  her  time 
and  weary  of  the  little  life  that  had  been  left  in  her  then. 
She  knew  that  Parish  M'Kissock  was  speaking  the  truth 
now,  and  that  she  must  bear  witness  to  it  at  whatever  cost 
to  herself.  It  made  no  difference  that  Captain  Dove's  ex- 
pression was  a  mute  and  none  the  less  dreadful  threat  of 
what  she  might  look  for  at  his  hands  if  she  dared  to  do  so. 
The  helpless  horror  of  the  position  in  which  his  cunning 
intrigue  had  left  her  broke  on  her  mind  like  a  thunderbolt. 
She  covered  her  shamed,  white  face  with  both  hands,  and 
turned,  swaying  on  her  feet,  and  would  have  fallen  had  not 
the  duchess  thrown  both  arms  about  her  and  held  her  there 
in  a  close,  warm  clasp,  while  Justin  Carthew  and  Lord 
Ingoldsby,  who  had  both  darted  forward  to  help  her,  glared 
at  each  other  vindictively. 

"  It  can't  be  true!  "  said  the  duchess,  half  to  herself,  but 
Sallie  heard,  and  stood  upright  again,  dizzily,  letting  her 
hands  fall,  prepared  to  do  public  penance  for  her  innocent 
and  unwitting  part  in  the  shameless  fraud  that  had  been 
perpetrated.  She  did  not  give  a  thought  to  the  fact  that 
all  her  own  fair  dreams  of  the  future  were  finally  shattered 
and  past  repair.  But  she  wondered  what  the  poor  folk  she 
had  befriended  about  the  village  would  have  to  say  when 
they  heard  that  she  was  no  better  than  a  common  impostor, 
and  the  duchess,  who  had  befriended  her,  and  Justin  Car- 
thew, whom  Mr.  Jobling  had  treated  as  a  trespasser  there ! 


ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE  339 

"  It  is  true,"  she  asserted,  desperately,  in  a  tone  which 
might  have  touched  even  Captain  Dove,  "  though  I  didn't 
know  till  now  —  "  She  almost  broke  down  under  the  dire 
humiliation  she  was  enduring,  but  the  duchess  would  not 
let  her  go  when  she  would  have  drawn  away  from  the  arm 
at  her  waist,  and  she  forced  herself  to  go  on  with  her  un- 
speakably hurtful  confession. 

"  The  locket  was  given  me  by  the  girl  who  died  in  the 
desert  —  who  was  that  man's  wife,"  she  said  so  that  all 
might  hear,  her  face  aflame  now  under  the  others'  blankly 
believing  glances.  "  I  didn't  want  to  take  it  at  all  —  but 
she  believed  she  would  not  live  long,  and  I  felt  that  it  would 
be  unkind  to  refuse." 

Parish  M'Kissock  looked  round,  in  baleful  triumph,  at 
Captain  Dove,  whose  hopes  he  had  thus  thwarted  and 
brought  to  nought.  But  Captain  Dove's  evil  eyes  were 
fixed  on  Lord  Jura. 

"  Did  she  tell  you  nothing  at  all  of  herself  —  or  her 
history?  "  the  duchess  asked  very  gently. 

"  Not  a  word,"  Sallie  answered  with  transparent  honesty. 

"  But  there's  another  here  that  knew  who  she  was,"  said 
Parish  M'Kissock,  and  pointed  to  Justin  Carthew,  who 
could  only  nod  most  unhappily,  avoiding  Sallie's  sudden, 
incredulous  glance. 

And,  at  that,  Lord  Jura  seemed  to  start  from  the  stupor 
into  which  he  had  gradually  lapsed.  His  haggard  face  grew 
dark  with  insane  and  uncontrollable  passion  as  he  began 
to  realise  the  fiendish  ingenuity  of  the  revenge  exacted  by 
the  man  whom  he  had,  in  the  first  place,  wronged  so  cruelly. 
No  other  torture,  bodily  or  mental,  could  have  caused  him 
such  anguish  as  the  thought  of  all  his  sister  must  have  suf- 
fered ere  she  died.  He  lifted  two  twitching  hands  and  sud- 


340  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

denly  leaped,  as  a  tiger  might,  at  Parish  M'Kissock's 
throat. 

So  swift  and  unforeseen  was  the  movement  that  no  one 
could  interfere.  But  he  overshot  his  mark  and  slipped  and 
fell  on  the  polished  oaken  floor  as  Parish  M'Kissock  stum- 
bled aside,  just  in  time  to  escape  his  clutch.  He  came  down 
with  a  crash,  and  his  eye-glass  dropped  and  splashed  about 
him  in  fragments  as  his  forehead  struck.  But,  stunned  as 
he  was,  he  turned  on  one  shoulder  and  thrust  an  arm  out, 
and  was  trying  to  rise  when  something  seemed  to  snap  in 
the  coat-pocket  underneath  him,  and  he  uttered  a  scream 
of  agony  as  his  arm  collapsed  at  the  elbow,  so  that  he  fell 
face  forward  again,  struggling  like  a  swimmer  with  cramp. 

"Keep  back!  "  shouted  Slyne.  And  Justin  Carthew,in  the 
act  of  stooping  to  try  to  help  the  ex-engineer,  sprang  to  one 
side  in  time  and  no  more  to  escape  the  touch  of  a  wriggling 
thing,  black  and  slimy,  like  a  live  shoe-string,  which  had 
come  slithering  out  from  under  the  hand  with  which  the 
fallen  man  was  clawing  at  the  floor.  It  was  almost  at  Car- 
thew's  ankles.  He  leaped  convulsively  again,  and  came 
down  on  it  with  both  feet.  Its  little  venomous  head 
writhed  round  and  struck  more  than  once  at  the  patent 
leather  of  his  low  shoes,  and  then  fell  limply  back  and  lay 
still.  He  set  his  heel  on  it,  to  make  sure  that  it  would  work 
no  more  harm,  and  turned  hastily  toward  Lord  Jura  again. 

Herries  was  before  him,  however,  and  had  already  lifted 
the  stricken  man's  head  and  shoulders  a  little.  Carthew 
would  have  helped  to  raise  him  to  a  sitting  posture,  but  all 
his  limbs  curled  in  a  dreadful  convulsion  and  straightened 
rigidly  and  curled  again  in  a  last  awful  spasm,  and  so  re- 
laxed, lifeless,  while  his  rolling  eyeballs  also  grew  fixed  and 
still.  He  had  ceased  to  breathe. 


ISHMAEL'S  HERITAGE  341 

"  He's  dead,"  said  Captain  Dove,  and  started,  as  if 
alarmed  by  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  And  for  a  space  no 
one  else  spoke,  and  no  one  moved  at  all.  The  only  under- 
tones that  broke  the  silence  were  the  subdued,  helpless 
weeping  of  the  three  women,  the  muted  moaning  of  the 
wind  on  the  terrace  without.  Carthew  and  Herries  were 
still  on  their  knees,  one  on  either  side  of  the  dead  man,  from 
one  of  whose  pockets  protruded  a  broken,  empty  cigar-box. 
The  others  stood  staring  down  at  him  as  if  they  could 
scarcely  yet  understand  what  it  was  that  had  made  such 
an  instant  difference  in  him. 

Carthew  got  stiffly  to  his  feet.  "  We  must  get  the  women 
away  out  of  this  at  once,"  he  whispered  to  Herries,  and  held 
out  a  hand  to  help  the  old  factor  up. 

Herries  gazed  at  him,  out  of  lack-lustre  eyes  into  which  a 
slow  return  of  intelligence  crept  as  he  too  rose. 

"  Yes,  —  my  lord,"  he  answered  in  a  low  voice,  that  yet 
was  audible  to  all  but  the  unhearing  ears  of  him  who  had 
been  the  ninth  Earl  of  Jura,  whose  heritage  was  now  no 
more  than  a  quiet  niche  in  the  lonely  graveyard  on  the 
most  seaward  of  the  Small  Isles,  and  a  young  girl's  ignorant 
prayers  that  he  might  there  find  rest  and  peace. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
PRIDE'S  PRICE 

CARTHEW  whispered  some  further  hasty  instructions 
to  Herries,  and,  "  Yes,  my  lord,"  the  old  factor  an- 
swered again  so  that  all  could  hear,  and  all  under- 
stood that  the  tenth  Earl  of  Jura  and  Baron  St.  Just  had 
thus  succeeded  the  ninth  —  who  lay  there  dead  on  the 
floor  before  them. 

The  duchess  was  gently  leading  Sallie  away.  Herries 
followed  them,  on  his  own  errands,  while  Captain  Dove  and 
his  accomplices  remained  looking  on  with  sullen,  suspicious 
eyes,  straining  their  ears  in  a  vain  attempt  to  hear  what 
was  to  be  their  fate. 

Carthew  turned  to  them.  "  I'll  bid  you  good  night 
now,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  not  without  a  new  tinge  of  authority 
in  it,  and  at  which  they  looked  anything  but  well  pleased. 
"  You'll  be  more  comfortable  ii  your  own  quarters  than 
anywhere  else  in  the  meantime."  And,  with  that  suffi- 
ciently broad  hint,  he  stood  waiting  for  them  to  go. 

Captain  Dove  had  opened  his  mouth  as  if  to  speak,  but 
said  nothing.  Slyne,  very  pinched  and  white  about  the 
nostrils,  drew  Mr.  Jobling  toward  the  door,  as  if  he  would 
not  trust  the  shifty  lawyer  with  Carthew,  and  answered 
for  them  all,  with  a  most  sarcastic  inflection,  "  Good  night, 
-  my  lord!  "  Now  that  the  worst  had  come  to  the  worst 
he  was  his  old  cool,  careless,  calculating  self  again. 


PRIDE'S  PRICE  343 

Captain  Dove  paused  at  the  buffet  in  passing,  and  went 
on  with  both  hands  full.  Both  he  and  Slyne,  on  their  way 
toward  the  North  Keep  with  Mr.  Jobling  shambling  along 
between  them,  not  unlike  a  condemned  criminal,  noticed 
the  unusual  number  of  able-bodied  men-servants  who 
seemed  to  have  found  aimless  occupation  of  some  sort  about 
the  corridor,  and  drew  their  own  discomforting  conclusions 
therefrom. 

Slyne  even  hesitated  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold  of 
the  cosy  living-hall  which  occupies  the  base  of  the  North 
Keep,  and  then,  with  a  grimace  of  disdain,  followed  the 
other  two,  closing  the  heavy  door  behind  him.  Almost 
immediately  he  heard  the  key  turned  quietly  in  the  lock 
outside  —  and  knew  that  his  suspicions  had  been  only  too 
well  founded.  Carthew  intended  to  keep  him  and  his  asso- 
ciates prisoners  there.  He  bit  his  lip  and  pulled  at  his 
moustache  as  he  watched  Captain  Dove  drawing  the  cork 
of  one  of  the  two  bottles  of  champagne  that  strategist  had 
brought  from  the  banquet-hall. 

"  We're  cornered  at  last,"  he  said  suddenly,  as  the  old 
man  set  the  bottle  down  after  having  imbibed  the  best  half 
of  its  contents.  "  They've  locked  us  in  here." 

Captain  Dove  turned  to  glare  disbelievingly  at  him,  and 
then,  darting  across  to  the  door,  tugged  furiously  at  its 
wrought-iron  handle.  He  set  a  foot  against  the  wall  and 
tried  again,  with  no  better  results.  He  bounced  about,  al- 
most frantic,  blaspheming  as  if  bereft  of  all  self-control. 
Mr.  Jobling  stood  wringing  his  hands  helplessly,  his  flaccid 
features  expressive  of  abject  despair.  But  Slyne  continued 
to  eye  the  old  man  with  a  strained,  disconcerting  com- 
posure, i 

"We  haven't  so  much  time  to  spare,  Dove,"  said  he 


344  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

bitingly,  "  that  we  can  afford  to  waste  any  more  watching 
you  play  the  fool.  I  expect  that  fellow  Carthew  will  have 
your  whole  history  out  of  Parish  M'Kissock  within  —  " 

"  If  you  had  only  kept  your  damned  mouth  shut  when 
Brasse  was  kicking  the  bucket,"  cried  Captain  Dove,  very 
venomously,  "  Carthew  would  be  keeping  him  company 
now.  The  snake  would  have  got  him  too.  And  we'd  have 
won  out  after  all." 

Slyne  ground  his  teeth.  But  that  was  no  moment  for 
futile  recrimination,  and  self-interest  served  to  stay  the 
acrid  retort  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue. 

"  '  If  this  and  if  that '  doesn't  make  any  difference 
now,"  he  declared  evenly.  "  I'm  not  going  to  argue  with 
you.  I  want  to  get  out  of  this  before  worse  comes  my 
way." 

"  But  how  —  "  moaned  Mr.  Jobling,  across  whose  men- 
tal vision  also  were  no  doubt  flashing  pictures  of  Wands- 
worth  Common  and  Wormwood  Scrubbs. 

Slyne  silenced  him  with  a  glance.  "  I'd  very  gladly  leave 
you  here  to  your  fate,  you  fat  bungler!  "  said  he,  with  irre- 
pressible bitterness,  "  if  it  weren't  that  you'd  turn  informer 
on  us.  So  come  on,  both  of  you.  We've  only  one  chance 
left  among  us.  And,  but  for  me,  neither  of  you  would  have 
even  that."  Wherewith,  and  only  pausing  to  take  a  long 
pull  at  Captain  Dove's  open  bottle,  he  turned  up  the  stair- 
case, leaving  them  to  follow  him  or  stay  where  they  were, 
as  they  chose. 

Captain  Dove  did  follow  him,  curiously,  but  not  forget- 
ting to  pocket  the  other  bottle.  The  shivering  lawyer  came 
close  at  his  heels,  no  less  eager  to  snatch  at  any  possibility  of 
escape. 

"  Get  into  a  change  of   clothes/'  ordered  Slyne,  as 


PRIDE'S  PRICE  345 

he  opened  the  door  of  his  own  room.  "  And  I  wouldn't 
be  slow  about  it,  if  I  were  you  —  for  I'm  going  as  soon  as 
I'm  ready." 

Captain  Dove's  change  did  not  unduly  detain  him,  since 
he  merely  pulled  on  a  pair  of  serge  trousers  and  a  pilot- 
jacket  on  top  of  his  other  attire.  And  Mr.  Jobling  was  back 
in  Slyne's  room  no  less  promptly.  They  found  it  in  dark- 
ness and  Captain  Dove  uttered  a  stifled  imprecation.  But 
almost  immediately,  they  heard  hasty  footsteps  on  the 
stair  without  and  Slyne  reappeared  with  a  coil  of  thin 
strong  cord  in  one  hand. 

"  The  flagpole-halliards,"  he  explained  breathlessly  as 
he  shut  the  door  behind  him  again.  "  My  window  looks 
out  on  the  battlements.  We  must  clamber  down.  Make  the 
rope  secure  at  this  end,  Dove,  but  so  that  we  can  pull  it 
after  us  once  we're  all  down  —  it's  long  enough  to  go 
double  —  while  I  get  some  things  together." 

Captain  Dove  did  as  he  was  bidden,  so  deftly  that  Slyne 
had  not  quite  completed  his  own  preparations  when  the 
old  man  called  on  him  to  go  first. 

"  Send  Jobling  down,"  said  Slyne,  pulling  on  an  overcoat 
to  cover  his  evening  clothes,  and  the  stout  solicitor  gave 
voice  to  a  very  heartrending  groan  as  he  glared  blankly  out 
into  the  black  gulf  beyond  the  window. 

"  I  won't  go  —  "  he  was  beginning  when  Captain  Dove 
ran  furiously  at  him,  clutched  him  round  the  waist  in  a 
gorilla-like  grip,  and  thrust  him,  feet  foremost,  struggling 
insanely,  over  the  sill. 

"  Catch  hold  of  the  cord  —  both  strands  —  or  I'll  drop 
you!  "  snarled  the  old  man.  "  Down  you  go,  now.  You'll 
find  a  knot  every  foot  or  so.  You  needn't  slip  unless  you 
force  me  to  start  you  with  a  slam  on  the  head."  And  he 


346  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

stood  watching,  grimly  amused,  while  his  moaning  victim 
sank  out  of  sight,  very  gradually. 

In  a  few  moments  the  weight  on  the  rope  relaxed. 

"  Are  you  there?  "  he  demanded,  and  had  to  shout  the 
question  again  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  so  strong  was  the 
wind. 

"  Yes,  all  right,"  the  answer  came  back,  very  faint  but 
palpably  freighted  with  helpless  wrath. 

"  Come  on,  then,  Slyne,"  ordered  Captain  Dove,  and 
himself  prepared  to  follow  the  injured  lawyer.  "  What's 
that  for?  "  he  called  in  through  the  window.  Slyne  was 
busy  securing  a  bundle  about  his  own  shoulders. 

"  Some  spare  wraps,"  Slyne  shouted  back  from  between 
set  teeth.  "  We're  going  to  take  Sallie  away  with  us.  On 
you  go  —  I'll  be  right  after  you." 

Nor  had  the  other  two  long  to  wait  till  he  came  scram- 
bling down  in  his  turn.  And,  as  soon  as  they  had  retrieved 
their  rope,  they  followed  his  lead  through  the  darkness. 

The  three  fugitives  made  their  way  in  the  teeth  of  the 
wind  along  the  battlements  to  a  point  overlooking  the 
terrace  that  lies  at  the  back  of  the  banquet-hall.  And 
there  again  their  rope  stood  them  in  good  stead.  Slyne 
thanked  his  stars  that  he  had  studied  all  the  intricacies  of 
the  castle  so  thoroughly,  as  he  led  the  way,  with  infinite 
precaution,  from  the  terrace  into  the  empty  passage  down 
which  they  crept  as  far  as  the  service-pantry  behind  the 
gun-room. 

The  gun-room  was  empty  also.  As  he  entered  it,  he  gave 
vent  to  a  long  sigh  of  heartfelt  relief . 

"  We're  safe  now,"  he  told  Captain  Dove  in  a  guarded 
tone,  and,  pulling  off  his  overcoat,  smoothed  down  his 
crumpled  shirt-front.  "But  you'd  better  hurry  down  to 


PRIDE'S  PRICE  347 

the  water-gate  and  make  sure  that  the  boat  there  doesn't 
go  off  without  us.  As  soon  as  Sallie  comes  along, 
we'll  —  " 

"  But  what  if  she  won't  come?  "  asked  Captain  Dove, 
becoming  recalcitrant  again.  "  And  how  do  you  know 
there's  a  boat  below?  " 

"  You  don't  suppose  Brasse  swam  ashore,  do  you!  "  Slyne 
retorted  impatiently.  "  The  boat  that  brought  him  from 
the  Olive  Branch  was  still  there  a  few  minutes  ago  —  while 
I  was  at  the  top  of  the  tower.  I  suppose  he  told  them  to 
wait  for  him,  in  case  he  struck  trouble  here.  But  they  may 
not  wait  much  longer,  if  you  waste  any  more  time. 

"  And,  as  to  Sallie,  leave  me  to  manage.  If  you  trip  me 
up  again  now  with  any  of  your  damned  nonsense,"  he  fin- 
ished with  sudden  fury,  "  I'll  go  to  gaol  quite  contentedly 
—  and  make  sure  there  that  you  hang." 

"  I  might  still  make  terms  with  that  fellow  Carthew," 
Captain  Dove  suggested  provokingly  and  with  a  great  air 
of  cunning. 

"  All  right,"  returned  Slyne.  "  That's  enough."  And, 
crossing  toward  the  fireplace,  he  pressed  the  bell-push  be- 
side the  mantel. 

Captain  Dove  snatched  up  a  candle  and,  with  that,  made 
a  dart  for  the  panel  in  the  wainscot.  It  would  not  move 
despite  his  most  desperate  efforts.  Slyne  pulled  a  bunch 
of  keys  from  one  pocket  and  promptly  released  the  power- 
ful spring-lock.  At  a  sign  from  him,  Mr.  Jobling  descended 
the  steps  below  in  Captain  Dove's  wake.  Slyne  pulled  the 
panel  back  into  place  and  was  seated  quietly  writing  at  the 
table  in  one  corner  when  a  sleepy-looking  footman  entered 
the  room. 

"  I  want  you  to  take  this  note  along  to  her  ladyship's 


348  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

rooms,"  said  Slyne,  and  yawned.  "  Give  it  to  her  maid. 
You  needn't  wait  for  an  answer." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  the  man  returned  with  all  the  respect 
due  to  Slyne's  recent  standing  there  and  evidently  still 
without  suspicion  of  any  change.  Slyne  yawned  again,  as 
if  ready  for  bed,  re-reading  what  he  had  written.  And  then, 
watching  his  messenger  go  off  with  the  missive,  breathed  a 
thanksgiving  that  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  prayer  to  the 
goddess  of  chance  who  was  his  deity.  For  he  was  taking 
risks  now  that  were  recklessly  dangerous  and  might,  at  any 
moment,  prove  deadly  to  him. 

"  It  would  be  pretty  fatal,  for  instance,  if  Carthew 
chanced  to  be  with  the  duchess  and  her  when  Ambrizette 
takes  my  note  in,"  he  told  himself.  "  But  —  there  are  a 
dozen  other  chances  of  accident,  and  what's  the  use  of 
worrying?  The  wind  doesn't  always  blow  from  the  same 
quarter.  I'd  feel  safe  enough  if  I  only  knew  where  Carthew 
is  at  this  precise  moment." 

He  crossed  to  the  fireplace,  picking  up  a  cigarette  by  the 
way,  and,  having  lighted  it  with  trembling  fingers,  stood 
staring  down  into  the  dull  glow  of  the  dying  logs  on  the 
hearth.  He  was  wondering  whether  all  was  really  lost,  and 
listening  most  impatiently  to  every  slightest  sound.  But 
he  had  not  long  to  wait  before  Sallie,  pale  of  face  and  with  a 
world  of  woe  in  her  wet  eyes,  came  very  quietly  into  the 
room. 

He  held  out  both  his  hands  to  her,  but  she  stopped  at  a 
little  distance. 

"  You  mustn't  blame  me,  Sallie,"  he  said  in  a  voice  meant 
to  carry  conviction  with  it.  "  I  didn't  know  —  I  had  no 
idea  —  I  believed  honestly  from  the  first  that  you  were  —  ' 

"  It  makes  no  difference  now,"  she  interrupted,  "  and  — 


PRIDE'S  PRICE  349 

I  —  I  —  Oh!  I'm  so  ashamed.  What  can  Mr.  Carthew 
think  of  me!  And  he  knew  all  the  time  that  I  had  no  right 
to  be  here!  " 

"  It  wasn't  your  fault  either,"  he  assured  her  soothingly. 
"  You  were  misled  —  no  less  than  I  was.  How  could  we 
ever  have  foreseen  —  But  there's  no  time  to  talk  of  that 
just  now.  We  must  be  off.  Captain  Dove  has  gone  on 
ahead.  He  left  me  to  show  you  the  way  to  the  boat." 

She  lifted  a  hand  dazedly  to  her  forehead. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  she  murmured.  "  But  — 
of  course,  I  can't  stay  here  now." 

Slyne  was  watching  her  tensely.  "  Most  assuredly  not," 
he  agreed  in  haste  and  trying  hard  to  hide  his  elation. 
"  You  can't  possibly  stay  here  —  after  what  has  happened. 
You've  far  too  much  proper  pride." 

"  And  my  promise  to  you  is  no  longer  binding,"  she  said, 
"  since  I'm  not  —  It  was  Lady  Josceline  Justice  with 
whom  you  made  that  bargain  —  and  not  with  me." 

He  saw  that  it  was  no  moment  to  argue  that  point.  All 
he  wanted  at  once  was  to  get  her  safely  on  board  the  Olive 
Branch.  And  he  did  not  contradict  her. 

"  Ambrizette  must  come  with  me,  Jasper,"  she  said 
brokenly.  "  I  won't  leave  her  behind." 

He  set  his  teeth  to  stifle  an  angry  refusal  of  that  difficult 
condition. 

"  All  right,  Sallie,"  he  answered  smoothly.  "  I'll  risk 
that  too,  since  you  say  so.  Slip  on  this  coat  —  it  will  be 
bitter  cold  in  the  boat.  And  I'll  send  for  Ambrizette." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE   TENTH  EARL 

CARTHEW  was  feeling  anything  but  fit  to  cope  with 
all  the  cares  and  responsibilities  which  had  devolved 
upon  him  again,  under  circumstances  so  shocking, 
no  less  suddenly  than  he  had  been  relieved  of  them  all  - 
along  with  that  place  in  life  to  which  they  pertained  - 
by  the  man  now  lying  dead  on  the  floor  before  him.  As  he 
watched  the  Duchess  of  Dawn  leading  Sallie  gently  out  of 
the  banquet-hall,  he  would  have  given  a  very  great  deal  to 
have  been  free  to  follow  them,  for  Sallie  had  looked  back 
at  him  out  of  tear-dimmed  eyes  as  she  went,  with  an  ex- 
pression he  could  not  quite  understand.  And,  now  that  she 
too  knew  the  very  worst  there  was  to  be  told,  he  was  des- 
perately anxious  to  find  out  how  she  was  going  to  deal  with 
him,  under  such  changed  conditions. 

But  there  were  matters  even  more  urgent  to  be  disposed 
of,  for  her  sake  too,  before  he  could  set  himself  right  with 
her.  He  pulled  himself  together,  with  a  great  effort. 

It  was  clear  that  he  must  not  permit  Captain  Dove  and 
his  two  confederates  to  decamp.  He  had  heard  enough 
already  to  justify  him  in  taking  the  law  into  his  own  hands 
for  the  nonce  and  detaining  them  there.  It  was  equally 
clear  that  he  must  not  delay  for  a  moment  in  finding  out  as 
much  more  as  he  might  from  Parish  M'Kissock,  who  looked 
as  if  he  could  scarcely  live  for  another  hour. 


THE  TENTH  EARL  351 

He  whispered  to  Henries  to  take  such  steps  as  would 
ensure  that  no  one  whosoever  should  be  allowed  to  leave 
the  castle,  and  to  shut  the  three  accomplices  up  together 
in  the  North  Keep  if  that  could  be  done  quietly,  without 
any  scandal.  Then,  having  got  rid  of  Captain  Dove  and 
the  other  two,  he  was  left  in  the  banquet-hall  with  only  the 
Marquis  of  Ingoldsby,  in  a  state  of  apparent  coma,  old  Janet 
M'Kissock,  grief-stricken  to  the  very  verge  of  endurance, 
and  her  unfortunate  brother,  still  standing  motionless,  with 
bent  head  and  hands  clasped,  staring  down  at  the  dead  man 
—  so  near  in  semblance  and  yet  so  far  beyond  reach  of  his 
animosity. 

The  grey-haired  housekeeper  was  pleading  with  Parish 
M'Kissock  to  come  away,  but  he  resisted  all  her  attempts 
to  get  him  to  leave  that  spot. 

"  Let  me  bide  where  I  am,"  he  answered  her  querulously. 
"  In  a  very  little,  Janet,  I'll  be  away  off  after  his  foolish 
lordship  there,  that  thinks  he  has  slipped  through  my  feck- 
less fingers  again  —  as  he  did  once  before.  But  I'll  soon 
be  on  his  track  again,  for  they'll  have  to  streek  me  on  the 
same  stretching-board  that  serves  him.  Let  me  bide  beside 
him  till  then." 

Carthew  looked  anxiously  across  at  the  Marquis  of  In- 
goldsby. There  was  nobody  who  might  better  serve  as  a 
witness  to  whatever  M'Kissock  might  still  be  induced  to 
tell  concerning  that  nightmare  past  in  which  the  poor  corpse 
on  the  floor  and  the  girl  who  had  gone  away  weeping  and  he 
himself  had  all  been  involved. 

"  There's  somethin'  doosid  fishy  about  all  these 
goin's-on,"  Lord  Ingoldsby  commented  with  a  good  deal 
more  candour  than  tact,  when  Carthew  made  that  sugges- 
tion to  him.  "  And  I'm  for  Lady  Josceline,  right  through 


352  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

from  start  to  finish.  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  that  goat- 
bearded  fellow's  yarn.  He's  been  and  caught  sunstroke 
somewhere  —  that's  what's  the  matter  with  him,  eh?  He's 
mad  as  a  hatter. 

"  But,  all  the  same,  I'm  willin'  to  listen  to  anything  more 
he  has  to  say  —  and  take  a  mental  note  of  it,  so  to  speak. 
I  want  to  know  who's  who  and  what's  what  myself." 

Carthew  turned  to  Parish  M'Kissock  then,  and  the  latter 
looked  him  over  with  a  frown  as  of  dim  remembrance  which 
gradually  changed  to  a  scowl  of  hate. 

"  And  so,"  said  the  ex-Emir  in  a  rancorous  voice,  "  you 
have  come  to  your  own  at  last  amid  it  all.  Is  there  no  end 
to  your  ill  race?  My  men  told  me  that  you  were  safely 
buried  and  dead  —  they  showed  me  the  mound  that  they 
said  covered  you.  How  —  " 

"  Come  away  from  here,"  said  Carthew  steadily,  "and  I'll 
tell  you  how  I  escaped."  And  Farish  M'Kissock,  leaning 
heavily  on  his  sister's  shoulder,  at  last  allowed  her  to  lead 
him  to  her  own  room. 

Carthew  told  him  then,  in  few  words,  while  Lord  In- 
goldsby,  listening  gloomily,  scowled  over  it,  the  story  of 
Sallie's  daring  and  his  own  escape  from  death,  on  the  African 
coast. 

The  ex-Emir's  heavy  eyes  lighted  up  a  little. 

"  Ay,"  said  Farish  M'Kissock,  musingly.  "  And  so  it 
was  —  her  —  that  helped  you  past  your  dug  grave !  I  knew 
her  for  a  mettlesome  filly  the  first  time  I  ever  clapped  eyes 
on  her.  And  now  —  to  think  that  but  for  you  and  me 
she'd  be  cosily  settled,  knowing  nothing,  in  this  old  nest  — 
that  should  by  rights  have  been  my  wife's  and  mine!  It's 
a  damned  upside-down  world  this,  my  fine  doctor!  But  — 
you'll  make  it  up  to  her,  maybe,  in  another  way?  " 


THE  TENTH  EARL  353 

He  was  gazing  at  Carthew  with  something  of  his  old  im- 
perious, indomitable  spirit.  "  You  owe  —  her  —  your  very 
coronet,  my  new  Lord  Jura,"  said  he. 

"  I'll  pay  all  I  owe,"  said  Carthew,  to  humour  him,  "  if 
she'll  take  any  payment  from  me."  And  at  that  the  Mar- 
quis of  Ingoldsby  scowled  still  more  blackly. 

The  ex-Emir  made  a  gruesome  effort  to  laugh  sardon- 
ically. 

"  She'll  take  it,"  said  he,  "  if  you're  man  enough,  if 
you're  man  enough  to  master  her,"  said  he  and  sank  back 
on  his  couch. 

"And  now  —  about  Captain  Dove,"  Carthew  suggested 
as  he  brought  paper  and  ink  to  the  table  from  the  desk  in 
one  corner.  And  the  dying  man  sat  up  again  as  if  spurred 
to  a  final  effort. 

He  looked  round  at  his  stricken  sister.  "  Leave  us  for 
a  little,  Janet,  woman,"  said  he  in  a  more  kindly  tone. 
"  There  is  that  to  be  told  now  which  you  would  like  ill  to 
hear,  and  his  lordship  will  call  you  back  when  I'm  through 
with  it." 

Carthew  nodded  hastily  to  the  old  housekeeper.  "  We'll 
be  as  quick  as  we  can,"  he  promised:  "  and  you  can  stay 
within  call." 

She  went,  however  unwillingly,  and  then  her  brother 
began  the  story  of  all  his  dealings  with  Captain  Dove, 
speaking  slowly,  in  a  low  voice,  husbanding  his  strength, 
while  Carthew  wrote  down  every  word  of  it. 

In  his  eagerness  to  ensure  the  downfall  of  his  surviving 
enemy,  he  had  no  hesitation  in  incriminating  himself. 
Lord  Ingoldsby  listened  as  if  stricken  dumb  and  Carthew 
had  hard  work  to  contain  himself  as  he  heard,  among  other 
infamies,  of  the  bargain  the  ex-Emir  had  driven  with  Cap- 


354  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

tain  Dove  over  Sallie.  He  would  have  thrown  down  his 
pen  during  M'Kissock's  laboured,  self-compassionate  ac- 
count of  how  Captain  Dove  had  outwitted  him,  had  not 
the  man  on  the  couch  at  the  other  side  of  the  table  been 
almost  across  death's  threshold  already.  M'Kissock's  rabid 
thirst  for  revenge,  his  obvious  impenitence  for  all  his  own 
crimes  and  misdeeds,  excited  repugnance  in  place  of  the 
pity  his  plight  might  otherwise  have  inspired.  Carthew 
was  devoutly  thankful  when  that  most  distasteful  task  was 
at  length  completed,  and  Parish  M'Kissock's  feeble,  strag- 
gling signature  attached  to  the  document  he  had  drawn 
up.  Lord  Ingoldsby  and  he  both  added  their  names  as 
witnesses,  and  then  he  called  the  housekeeper  in  again. 
Her  brother,  having  thus  accomplished  his  final  object  in 
life,  was  evidently  sinking  fast. 

In  the  corridor  outside,  Lord  Ingoldsby  called  a  halt  as 
Carthew  would  have  turned  to  leave  him  with  a  few  hurried 
words  of  thanks  for  the  jealous  service  he  had  just  ren- 
dered. 

"  Half  a  mo',"  interposed  his  lordship,  very  morosely. 
"  We  might  just  as  well  come  to  an  understandin'  now  as 
later  on.  I  want  to  tell  you  that,  whoever  Lady  Josceline 
is  or  is  not,  I've  asked  her  to  marry  me  —  and,  if  you're 
goin'  to  see  her  now  —  I  don't  know  what  your  ideas  are, 
but  —  we  might  just  as  well  start  fair." 

Carthew  contemplated  him  for  a  moment  in  surprised 
silence,  and  then  nodded  curtly.  He  was  going  to  see  Sallie 
at  once,  if  he  could,  as  his  rival  had  divined. 

"  All  right,"  he  assented.    "  Come  on." 

He  looked  into  the  banquet-hall  in  passing.  Herries  was 
there,  with  the  butler  and  all  his  assistants.  The  dinner- 
table  had  been  cleared  and  draped  with  a  great  black  mort- 


THE  TENTH  EARL  355 

cloth.  And  on  it  lay,  recumbent,  with  clasped  hands,  in 
the  clear,  mellow  light  of  the  tall,  white  tapers  at  its  head 
and  feet,  the  unheeding  shape  of  Carthew's  predecessor  in 
the  earldom  of  Jura,  still  dressed  in  its  disreputable,  greasy 
blue  uniform  and  burst  boots,  with  a  red  smudge,  as  of  iron- 
rust,  on  its  forehead. 

The  fires  had  both  been  raked  out  and  their  hearth-stones 
strewn  with  the  ashes,  not  to  be  rekindled  before  that  night 
on  which  the  dead  earl  should  be  carried  away  by  the  water- 
gate  from  his  catafalque  to  the  great  black  burial-barge, 
with  the  pipes  wailing  a  wild  lament  for  the  mountains  to 
echo,  and  the  waves  or  the  still  sea-surface,  as  might  befall, 
crimson  under  the  twinkling  torches  of  those  who  would 
follow,  with  muffled  oars. 

Herries  came  forward  to  speak  to  Carthew.  "  I'm  seeing 
to  everything  here  now,  my  lord,  and  we'll  soon  have  all 
as  it  should  be,"  said  he.  "  Captain  Dove  and  his  friends 
are  fast,  in  the  North  Keep.  And  your  other  orders  have 
all  been  observed." 

"  I'll  see  you  again  in  a  little,  then,"  Carthew  returned, 
and  went  on  his  way,  by  no  means  inspirited. 

It  was  the  Duchess  of  Dawn,  her  blue  eyes  still  blurred 
and  showing  traces  of  tears,  who  came  to  the  door  of  the 
boudoir  in  Sallie's  suite  in  the  distant  West  Wing,  in  re- 
sponse to  Carthew's  knock. 

"  Have  you  not  brought  her  back  with  you?  "  she  asked, 
and  looked  surprisedly  past  him  at  Lord  Ingoldsby. 

"  Where  is  she?  "  Carthew  asked,  in  sudden  alarm.  "  I 
haven't  seen  her." 

"  She  went  along  to  the  gun-room  a  little  ago  —  a  note 
came  to  say  she  was  wanted  there.  And  —  I  supposed  it 
would  be  from  you." 


356  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  I'll  find  her  there,  then,"  declared  Carthew,  and  turned 
and  retraced  his  steps  very  hurriedly.  An  instant  dread 
of  some  unforeseen  mischance  among  his  over-rapid  plans 
for  her  welfare  had  filled  his  mind;  and  his  face  grew  dark 
as  he  hobbled  back  along  that  endless  corridor  and  across 
the  deserted  main  hall  again,  with  Lord  Ingoldsby  at  his 
elbow. 

Of  the  sleepy  servants  they  passed  by  the  way  he  asked 
no  questions,  for  only  the  butler  and  his  immediate  under- 
lings knew  anything  as  yet  of  what  had  happened.  It  had 
been  Carthew's  own  idea  to  prevent  any  garbled  report 
being  spread  about  till  he  should  have  devised  some  means 
to  save  Sallie  from  pain  and  scandal. 

He  found  the  gun-room  empty,  and  stared  about  it  in 
dire  distress.  Then  he  sniffed  the  air,  frowning.  And  then 
he  noticed  a  half-smoked  cigarette  smouldering  in  the  fire- 
place. He  picked  it  up  hastily  and  saw  Jasper  Slyne's  mono- 
gram upon  it. 

"  Must  have  been  a  long  time  burning,"  he  thought,  and 
a  concrete  suspicion  flashed  through  his  mind.  But  that 
seemed  so  far-fetched  at  first  that  he  shook  his  head  impa- 
tiently over  it. 

"  They  could  scarcely  escape  from  the  North  Keep," 
said  he  to  himself.  "  But  —  I  may  as  well  make  sure  that 
everything's  safe  here  while  I'm  about  it,"  he  muttered, 
and  limped  across  to  the  panel  that  covered  the  passage  to 
the  water-gate. 

It  was  unlocked. 

He  pulled  it  open  and  looked  down  into  the  darkness, 
listening  intently.  Then  he  swung  round  and,  snatching 
up  the  lighted  lamp  on  the  table  beside  the  fire,  made  off 
down  the  steps,  leaving  Lord  Ingoldsby  in^the  dark. 


THE  TENTH  EARL  367 

But  his  gaping  lordship  was  not  to  be  left  behind.  He 
followed  hot-foot,  uttering  foolish  oaths  as  he  barked  an 
elbow  on  the  rock  wall. 

Carthew  stopped  suddenly.  He  could  hear  voices  not 
very  far  ahead  and  the  movement  of  some  heavy  weight. 
The  tunnel  curved  a  little  there,  and  he  knew  he  must  be 
near  the  bridge  that  crosses  the  oubliette.  He  went  on 
again,  very  cautiously,  keeping  close  to  one  wall  and  shading 
the  lamp  as  well  as  he  could,  till  he  came  to  a  point  where 
further  precaution  was  idle.  For,  fifty  yards  away,  straight 
ahead,  he  could  see  Slyne  holding  a  candle  beside  Captain 
Dove,  who  was  stooping  over  the  roughly  carpentered  tree- 
trunk  which  still  stretched  from  lip  to  lip  of  the  intervening 
chasm.  Its  former  neighbour  had  disappeared. 

Captain  Dove  looked  up  and  caught  sight  of  Carthew  in 
his  turn.  He  had  got  his  hands  under  the  heavy  trunk,  and 
staggered  sideways,  straddling  it,  till  its  butt-end  was  close 
to  the  brink.  Carthew  had  all  but  reached  the  opposite  edge 
of  the  pit  between  them  when  he  let  it  go  with  a  breathless 
grunt  and  it  fell  almost  soundlessly  into  the  void  below. 

Slyne  blew  out  his  candle  then,  with  a  bitter,  mocking 
laugh,  but  not  before  Carthew  had  observed  Mr.  Jobling 
and  Ambrizette  in  the  background,  with  a  drooping  figure 
between  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

"  AT    THE    END    OF    THE    PASSAGE  " 

CAPTAIN  DOVE  looked  across  at  Carthew  with  a 
hoarse  chuckle,  no  less  malicious.  He  was  evidently 
in  that  mordant,  capricious  humour  most  common 
with  him  at  moments  when  his  potations  had  merely  begun 
their  evil  work  on  his  wits. 

"Light  that  candle  again,  Slyne,  confound  you!"  he 
ordered  sharply.  "  His  noble  lordship,  our  American  friend, 
can  scarcely  see  us  —  to  say  good-bye." 

"  Oh,  come  on,"  Slyne  urged,  obviously  almost  at  the 
end  of  his  patience.  "  We've  no  more  than  time  to  get 
safely  away  before  we'll  have  the  hue  and  cry  after  us  in  the 
fishermen's  boats  —  and  they're  faster  than  you  imagine." 

"  You  can't  teach  me  anything  about  boats!  "  Captain 
Dove  retorted  with  crapulous  dignity.  "  So  just  light  — 
Or,  here  —  gimme  the  candle,  quick!  And  don't  address 
any  more  of  —  of  your  in — invidious  conversation  to  me." 

"  I'll  see  Sallie  safely  afloat,  then,"  suggested  Slyne. 
"  We'll  have  to  send  her  down  in  a  whip,  I  expect.  The 
sea's  always  rising." 

"  She's  a  better  seaman  than  you  are,  Slyne,"  the  old 
man  returned  with  a  sneer.  "  And  she'll  go  down  hand 
under  hand,  same  as  I  will  —  when  I'm  quite  ready.  Till 
then,  she'll  stay  here  with  me,  so  that  his  loving  lordship 
there  can  have  a  last,  long  look  at  her."  He  chuckled  again, 


"AT  THE  END  OF  THE  PASSAGE"        359 

most  discordantly.  "  But  —  you  can  see  that  fat  stiff, 
Jobling,  safely  afloat,  if  you  like.  It  will  probably  take  a 
whip  to  tempt  him  to  run  the  risk  of  a  wetting  on  his  way 
aboard." 

The  wretched  object  of  his  derision  gave  vent  to  a  very 
audible  groan,  hearing  which,  Captain  Dove  laughed  aloud, 
with  malevolent  relish.  And,  having  at  length  succeeded 
in  striking  a  match,  he  turned  again  toward  Carthew,  stand- 
ing still  and  silent  on  the  other  side  of  the  apparently  bot- 
tomless chasm  which  cut  the  pathway  apart. 

"  Are  there  only  the  two  of  you  there?  "  he  asked,  dart- 
ing a  contemptuous  glance  at  Lord  Ingoldsby. 

"  That's  all,"  Carthew  answered  tersely.  He  was  abso- 
lutely at  his  wits'  end,  but  thought  he  could  not  do  better 
than  detain  the  old  man  there  as  long  as  he  might. 

"  But  you've  raised  the  alarm  up  above?  "Captain  Dove 
suggested,  with  all  the  fatuous  cunning  of  one  half-fuddled. 
"  And  we'll  have  a  pack  of  your  cut- throats  in  petticoats 
down  on  us  in  a  minute  or  two?  " 

He  looked  savagely  round  at  Slyne.  "  I  thought  I  told 
you  to  see  that  bloated  Jonah  into  the  boat!  "  he  blurted 
explosively.  And  Slyne,  with  an  exasperated  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  sauntered  away,  with  Mr.  Jobling  in  very  un- 
certain attendance. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  on  my  own  account  for  five  sec- 
onds or  so,  young-fellow-my-lad,"  Captain  Dove  continued, 
as  if  in  confidence,  to  Carthew.  "  But  —  is  it  safe,  eh?  You 
haven't  answered  my  questions  yet.  And  —  you've  turned 
the  key  on  us  once  already!  " 

"  You're  safe  from  pursuit  in  the  meantime,"  Carthew 
reassured  him. 

"  I'll  take  your  word  for  it,  sir,"  Captain  Dove  declared, 


360  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

and,  bowing  very  graciously,  all  but  over-balanced  himself. 
"  And  now  let  me  ask  you  whether  you  have  been  listening 
to  any  more  lies  from  Parish  M'Kissock;  because,  if  you 
have,  we  must  part  brass-rags  right  away." 

Carthew  was  most  sorely  tempted  to  spare  the  truth,  and 
made  haste  to  answer  honestly  while  he  might.  "I've 
heard  all  he  had  to  tell,"  said  he,  "  and  —  " 

"  And  you  believe  it  all!  "  Captain  Dove  interposed,  with 
maudlin  pathos,  his  evident  intention  to  see  whether  he 
could  not  even  yet  make  terms  of  some  sort  for  himself 
with  the  young  American  knocked  on  the  head.  "  Well, 
well!  We  must  be  jogging  now,  Sallie." 

The  girl  stepped  forward  beside  him  at  that,  and  Garthew 
was  thankful  to  see  Ambrizette  clinging  to  her  skirts,  for 
she  had  told  him  more  than  once  how  often  the  dumb,  black 
dwarf  had  stood  betwixt  her  and  imminent  harm. 

Her  sweet,  sensitive  features  were  very  pale,  but  placid, 
as  if,  after  the  sore  stress  she  had  suffered,  she  had  found 
some  sort  of  peace.  And  all  the  pride  seemed  to  have  died 
out  of  her  downcast  eyes  as  she  faced  him  across  the  dark, 
impassable  gulf  that  stretched  between  them. 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  think  that  I  have  gone  away  un- 
willingly, Mr.  Carthew,"  she  said,  and  his  heart  almost 
failed  him  as  he  heard  that.  It  had  never  occurred  to  him 
that  she  might  have  taken  such  a  sheerly  suicidal  step  of  her 
own  free  will. 

"  But  why  —  "  he  cried,  and  the  hurt  in  his  voice  perhaps 
helped  to  salve  a  little  the  sore  wounds  in  her  own  heart. 

"  I  couldn't  possibly  have  stayed  here,  you  see  —  after 
what  has  happened.  And,  —  I'm  not  afraid  of  the  future 
now.  You  don't  understand,  perhaps,  but  —  you  will  re- 
member —  I  wasn't  afraid." 


"AT  THE  END  OF  THE  PASSAGE  "       361 

"  Come  away  now,  Sallie,"  said  Captain  Dove.  An  iras- 
cible voice  in  the  distance  was  calling  upon  him  insistently. 

"  Good-bye/'  she  said,  submissively,  to  Carthew,  and, 
looking  up,  her  eyes  met  his  for  an  instant. 

"  Wait  a  minute  —  only  a  minute  more,  for  God's  sake!  " 
Carthew  implored  the  old  man.  "  It  won't  do  any  of  you 
any  harm  to  stand  by  till  I've  said  my  say.  It  won't  help 
you  in  the  least,  Captain  Dove,  to  carry  Sallie  away  —  and 
you'll  be  far  safer,  believe  me,  if  you  leave  her  here.  I've 
only  been  waiting  my  chance  to  ask  her  to  marry  me, 
and  —  " 

"  I've  asked  her  already,"  interrupted  Lord  Ingoldsby, 
in  a  tone  no  doubt  meant  to  be  most  impressive  but  strongly 
resembling  a  squeal.  No  one,  however,  paid  him  any  more 
attention  than  if  he  had  been  the  shadow  he  seemed. 

"  And  if  you  carry  her  off  just  now,"  Carthew  continued 
hurriedly,  encouraged  by  the  benevolent  smile  with  which 
Captain  Dove  was  regarding  him,  "  you'll  have  good  cause 
to  regret  it.  For  I'll  hunt  you  down  till  I  find  you,  and 
then  —  " 

"  Now  you're  talking,"  the  old  man  commented  approv- 
ingly, quite  undismayed  by  that  threat.  "  And  then  we'll 
make  terms,  if  you  come  in  time  and  bring  enough  money 
with  you. 

"  I'd  even  have  waited  here  and  fixed  it  all  up,  but  — 
He  wagged  his  shameless  white  head  sorrowfully.     "  It 
wouldn't  be  wise,"  said  he.      "  You've  been  prejudiced 
against  me  —  by  Farish  M'Kissock.    It's  too  late  to  think 
of  that  now.    So  I  must  be  off,  for  my  own  sake. 

"  But  maybe  we'll  meet  again,"  he  concluded  with  cheer- 
ful complacence, "  in  some  safer  spot  for  me.  And,  if  Sallie's 
still  on  my  hands  when  you  show  up  —  " 


362  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

"  So  be  it,  then,"  Carthew  agreed,  seeing  clearly  that 
further  appeal  would  be  futile,  all  eagerness  to  get  above- 
ground  again  and  begin  the  chase.  He  could  have  the  whole 
fishing-fleet  of  the  village  armed  and  afloat  within  half  an 
hour,  and  might  even  yet  succeed  in  boarding  the  Olive 
Branch  at  her  anchorage.  But,  manlike,  he  had  counted 
without  the  woman  in  the  case. 

"  I'm  going  away  of  my  own  free  will,  Mr.  Carthew," 
said  Sallie  suddenly,  with  the  same  strange  expression  of 
face  that  he  had  observed  when  she  had  looked  back  at  him 
in  the  banquet-hall.  "  And  —  I  don't  want  you  to  follow 
me.  You  have  been  far  more  than  generous,  but  —  I 
couldn't  marry  you  —  in  any  case." 

"  Don't  say  that,  Sallie,"  he  beseeched,  and,  "  Dove!  " 
cried  a  very  wrathful  voice  in  the  distance.  "  We'll  be  off 
without  you  if  you  don't  come  down  at  once." 

The  old  man's  smug,  blinking  smile  instantaneously 
changed  to  a  furious  scowl.  He  pulled  a  big,  golden-necked 
bottle  from  one  of  his  pockets,  removed  the  cork,  and,  hav- 
ing poured  its  remaining  contents  hastily  down  his  throat, 
tiptoed  off  down  the  tunnel  with  it  in  one  hand,  making 
motions  as  if  to  hurl  it  with  accurate  aim,  leaving  Sallie 
alone  there. 

Carthew  glared  across  the  black  gulf  at  his  feet,  his  free 
hand  clenched,  in  helpless  despair.  He  would  gladly  have 
given  his  earldom  then  in  exchange  for  a  pair  of  wings. 

"  I'll  bolt  up  and  get  a  ladder  brought  down,"  groaned 
Lord  Ingoldsby.  And  he  would  have  made  off  without  more 
ado  but  that  Carthew  had  seized  him  by  the  sleeve. 

"  Here!  Hold  this,"  commanded  Carthew,  and  thrust 
the  smoking  lamp  into  his  hands.  Sallie  had  turned  to 
follow  Captain  Dove,  with  dragging  steps.  He  could  not 


"  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  PASSAGE  "       363 

believe  that  she  meant  what  she  had  said.  He  would  not 
let  her  go  without  making  sure.  Farish  M'Kissock's  con- 
temptuous words  had  recurred  to  his  mind  —  ''if  you're 
man  enough  to  master  her!  "  Instinct  told  him  that  she 
would  not  turn  back  now,  and  —  a  man's  last  stake  was 
all  he  had  left  to  venture. 

"  Stop,  stop!  It's  sheer  suicide,"  the  marquis  cried 
shrilly,  as  Carthew  ran  limping  up  the  tunnel  as  far  as  the 
straight  extended,  and  faced  about,  throwing  off  his  coat, 
and  balanced  there  for  a  breathless  instant  and  then  came 
racing  down  past  him  to  launch  himself  bodily  into  space. 

No  human  being  could  have  leaped  the  distance,  and 
Carthew  had  been  further  handicapped  by  his  lameness.  He 
shot,  as  if  from  a  catapult,  nearly  as  high  as  the  arched  rock- 
roof,  his  elbows  close,  chin  on  chest,  head  between  his 
shoulders,  knees  at  his  temples  and  heels  tucked  back,  and, 
on  the  downward  curve,  reached  the  lower  lip  of  the  chasm, 
landing  on  one  shoulder,  to  hang  there  for  the  space  of  a 
couple  of  heart-beats,  as  if  poised  for  the  inevitable  re- 
bound. 

Lord  Ingoldsby  heard  the  dull  thud  of  his  fall  and 
Sallie's  stifled,  heart-broken  cry.  He  opened  his  eyes  and 
saw  the  girl  desperately  striving  to  pull  a  hunched-up, 
relaxing  body  back  from  the  brink  over  which,  but  for  her, 
it  would  already  have  toppled.  He  thought  they  must 
both  have  slipped  over  before,  at  the  finish,  Sallie  succeeded 
in  drawing  Carthew  into  safety,  and  sat  down  beside  him, 
swaying  from  side  to  side,  as  if  her  own  back  were  broken. 

But,  presently,  Carthew  looked  up  and  then  he  scrambled 
on  to  his  knees  with  a  suppressed  grunt  of  agony.  For  a 
time  the  whole  world  swam  redly  about  him,  but  he  clenched 
his  teeth,  not  to  be  overcome.  And  when  Sallie  in  turn 


364  THE  WHITE  BLACKBIRD 

got  on  to  her  feet  again,  white  and  shaking,  he  had  re- 
covered the  use  of  his  voice. 

"  I  won't  let  you  go  —  dear,"  he  said  dazedly,  and 
started,  in  renewed  alarm  for  her,  as  they  heard  Captain 
Dove  calling  her  harshly  from  below. 

"  Coming,"  she  called  back,  since  she  could  not  help 
herself. 

"  You  must  stay  here,  or  —  he'll  kill  you!  "  she  whis- 
pered in  an  agony  of  entreaty.  "  I'll  go  now;  it  will  be 
best  so.  And  if,  by  and  by,  you  still  care  to  follow  — 

"  You  go  on,"  he  said  gently.  "  I'm  going  to  follow  you 
now." 

She  had  no  option  but  to  obey  him,  since  to  have  re- 
mained there  would  merely  have  meant  that  Captain  Dove, 
coming  back  for  her,  would  have  him  at  a  greater  disad- 
vantage. And  as  she  led  the  way  in  the  dark,  with  slow 
steps,  he  followed  quietly;  while  Lord  Ingoldsby,  left  to 
his  own  devices  as  they  disappeared,  was  brilliantly  in- 
spired to  bolt  back  for  help. 

A  little  further  on  a  thick  twilight  made  progress  more 
easily  possible,  and  they  could  feel  the  salt  breath  of  the 
sea  on  their  fevered  faces.  Then,  at  last,  they  drew  near 
the  oblong  opening  in  the  cliff-face  at  which  Captain  Dove 
had  for  several  minutes  been  busy  abusing  the  men  in 
the  boat  below.  But  he  was  hi  no  better  temper  by  then, 
since  the  empty  bottle  he  had  hurled  at  Slyne  had  knocked 
the  steersman  insensible. 

"  Is  that  you,  Sallie?  "  he  snapped,  looking  round. 

"Below  there,  you  lubbers!  Stand  in  again.  We're 
coming  down  now. 

"  Hurry  up,  girl!  "  he  barked,  impatiently.  "  It's  high 
time  we  were  away." 


"  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  PASSAGE  "        365 

He  was  leaning  out  over  the  ledge,  clinging  with  one 
hand  to  a  bar  of  the  great  water-gate,  so  thick,  that  his 
stubby  ringers  did  not  meet  round  it.  Carthew,  creep- 
ing after  Sallie  set  her  suddenly  aside,  and  ran  at 
him. 

Captain  Dove  heard  him  coming,  but  too  late  to  save 
himself.  He  felt  as  if  a  bullock  had  kicked  him  in  the  small 
of  the  back,  and,  as  his  hold  broke,  he  fell  headlong, 
howling  like  an  evil  spirit,  into  the  smothering,  yeasty 
surge  through  which  his  boat  was  already  hastily  back- 
ing to  pick  him  up. 

Carthew  set  his  back  to  the  heavy  gate,  and  it  swung 
slowly  shut.  But  Slyne  had  not  left  behind  the  key  he 
had  for  its  modern  lock,  and  its  old-fashioned  draw-bolts 
were  rusted  fast.  He  could  only  hope  that  Lord  Ingoldsby 
would  bring  back  some  means  of  bridging  the  drowning- 
hole  before  Captain  Dove  and  his  helpers  could  storm 
the  position  again. 

He  laughed,  a  little  light-headed  by  then,  as  he 
stumbled  up  the  long,  dark  slope,  with  Sallie  close  at  his 
shoulder. 

"  I  told  you  I  wouldn't  let  you  go,  —  dear,"  he  declared 
triumphantly,  and  his  laugh  changed  to  a  low,  choked  groan 
as  she  would  have  taken  his  arm  to  help  him;  for  he  was 
walking  unsteadily. 

"  Don't  touch  that  one,"  he  begged.  "  It's  a  bit  sore; 
I  came  down  on  it  when  I  jumped." 

"  Do  you  think  it's  broken?  "  she  whispered,  and  her 
eyes  grew  dim  as  she  thought  of  all  he  had  suffered  through 
her.  She  had  stopped.  There  were  lights  coming  down 
the  tunnel,  and  hurrying  feet,  on  the  further  side  of  the 
drowning-hole. 


366  THE  WHITE    BLACKBIRD 

He  slipped  his  sound  arm  about  her.  '  There's  nothing 
broken  that  can't  be  mended  now,"  he  murmured  con- 
tentedly. "  Unless  you're  really  determined  to  break  my 
heart." 


THE   END 


A  Story  of  Charm  and  Cheeriness 


ALL  THE  WORLD  TO 
NOTHING 


tfyWYNDHAM  MARTYN 
Illustrated  by  H.  H.  Leonard.     Cloth,  $1.25  net 


A  few  years  ago  Wyndham  Marty n's  first  book,  "The  Man 
Outside,"  was  one  of  the  "  best  sellers  "  of  its  season.  His  new 
novel  shows  a  distinct  advance  in  the  art  of  the  story-teller,  and 
will  make  many  new  friends  for  its  author.  Richard  Chester, 
a  young  American  of  family,  with  a  care-free  disposition  and  a 
dashing  outlook  on  life,  goes  through  all  his  money,  and  has  the 
choice  of  appealing  to  his  older  brother  for  assistance  or  work- 
ing to  avoid  starvation. 

Choosing  the  latter  alternative,  and  the  odds  against  him,  he 
pursues  his  unfaltering  way  through  many  trials  and  vicissi- 
tudes, not  afraid  to  try  labor  of  the  meanest  sort ;  and  through- 
out his  struggle  for  existence  his  hopes  are  sustained  through 
love  of  a  true-hearted  woman.  No  man  fights  more  gallantly 
than  he  for  what  is  dear  to  him ;  neither  hardship  nor  ill-success 
has  power  to  stay  his  impetuous  course. 

The  reader  must  learn  for  himself  the  place  that  a  curious 
will  and  a  chance  meeting  have  in  the  unusual  plot,  and  the 
reader  may  be  sure  of  finding  in  "  All  the  World  to  Nothing  " 
a  story  of  charm  and  cheeriness  and  unusual  appeal 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHER* 

34  BEACOX  STREET,  BOSTON 


By  the  author  of  "The  Haunted  Pajamas" 


THE  GIFT 
OF  ABOU  HASSAN 


By  FRANCIS   PERRY  ELLIOTT 

Illustrated  by  Hanson  Booth.     Cloth,  $1.25  net. 


This  is  absolutely  the  cleverest,  catchiest  book  of  the  sea- 
son, the  Arabian  Nights  up-to-date  in  modern  New  York,  a 
rapid,  rollicking  romance  of  love  and  laughter,  fun  and  ab- 
surdity, all  told  in  the  most  delightfully  whimsical  manner 
imaginable.  A  young  club-man,  whose  distinguishing  charac- 
teristic is  the  possession  of  unblushing  audacity  and  nerve, 
sees  a  pretty  girl  outside  the  antique-shop  of  a  Persian  dealer, 
to  which  the  girl's  aunt  has  come  in  quest  of  a  wonderful  rug — 
and  then  the  fun  begins  and  never  stops. 

For  Abou  Hassan's  shop  holds  a  rug  more  wonderful  than 
the  world  has  known  in  many  centuries :  a  magic  rug  —  put 
foot  upon  it  and  one  can't  be  seen  or  heard.  And  the  hero's 
love-making,  his  masquerade  as  another  man,  the  complica- 
tions for  which  the  magic  rug  is  responsible,  these  make  a 
steady  stream  of  comedy  that  brings  laughter  to  your  lips  and 
tears  to  your  eyes  while  you  are  held  entranced  by  the  mirth- 
ful medley  of  mysterious  events  that  follow. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHER* 
34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON- 


V"  ll"1 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    000127135     2 


